


Bearing Thy Heart

by Smim



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies RPF, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Hiddlesworth, M/M, Student/Teacher
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-26 00:57:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 60,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/959701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smim/pseuds/Smim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris never wanted to move to Britain, neither he had wanted to attend the university in his new city and especially nor had he wanted to be taught by his English teacher, professor Hiddleston. What starts out as an innocent crush soon turns into something more and Chris and Tom find themselves caught in a whirlwind of trouble; all they would have to do would be keep their secret until Chris graduated...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Professor

Chris had never wanted to move to Britain. He hated it here; he hated the weather, the university, the new house. He missed Australia, their sunny weather, young people casually hanging out on beaches after school in nothing but swimsuits, the freedom of it all. He knew that there hadn’t been much of choice and he wasn’t angry at his parents because of it, in fact he had nearly stayed behind in Australia but his father had insisted him and his elder had come too. Luke had actually been quite eager to live in England, Chris not so much...

He turned in his bed, face half buried by the pillow and looked up his clock. It was the first day of university and he'd woken up before his alarm. It must have been nerves, new people; new everything. It made Chris feel nauseous. Knowing he wouldn’t manage to get back to sleep he groggily pushed himself out of bed and went to take a shower.

Chris's mother was cooking as he reached the kitchen, the sweet smell of bacon and eggs filling the room; she turned them over, the fat sizzling with a quiet hiss. "You're up early dear," she smiled, "not quite finished breakfast yet."

"That's fine." He muttered and sat on one of the chairs at the kitchen table, tossing his rucksack on the floor. "I'm not in hurry or anything."

"How was your induction day?" She asked as she decanted the food onto plates, "you like your course?"

"Great," Chris rolled the glass on the desk. "New people, new school...new everything." He said sarcastically, then sighed and turned to his mom. "It's university... I don't really have to be going to every lecture. If I found someone to lent me their notes..."

"Dear," his mother turned and gave him a stern look. "You won't learn properly if you don't go to lectures, I'm sure you'll make new friends soon enough..."

"He can never make new friends." Liam's grinning face appeared in the door. "It was a miracle he had some back at home."

Chris glared at him instead of saying something back. He was angry enough to start a fight with his younger brother, but didn't want to; at least not in front of their mom. Liam had been teasing him constantly though he himself didn’t seemed to be remotely phased about moving to a new school. In truth, Chris just envied him; he wanted that confidence.

"Liam, don't be mean," their mother sighed and placed too heavily laden plates on the table. "University is far scarier than school, you wait and see what it's like for you."

The boy just rolled his eyes so his mother couldn't see it and sat down next to his older brother, taking huge mouthfuls of food. His plate was empty in moments. 

"Luke's still asleep?" Chris asked.

"He doesn't need to wake up this soon." She nodded. Luke had gotten a new job but he clearly wasn’t going until the afternoon, it was something to do with catering.

How fair, Chris thought, eyeing his plate as if the bacon had personally offended him. It felt like he’d gotten the worse outcome out of everyone from this move and that alone made him feel resentful. He wasn't even hungry, so he quickly ate a bit of everything, took his rucksack and went to the fridge to take some water with him. The nerves were clearly getting to him more than he’d anticipated. 

"It's your first lecture today isn't it?" His mother tried a smile, "well I hope you at least like your Professor."

Chris just smirked bitterly. "Sure...See you guys later." He waved at them shortly and headed out.

"Don't forget your umbrella!"

Yep. He definitely hates it here.

His mother handed it to him and squeezed his shoulder, "it'll get better, just give it a chance here."

She felt guilty, Chris could tell. It was her losing her job that caused their father to take the new job here in England, he knew that she blamed herself. He forced a smile and his mother’s expression seemed to soften at that.

"You never know, you might come to enjoy it."

*

The university was a large modern-style building, all glass and twisting corridors, very confusing and Chris got immediately lost. He had a map, but somehow, he couldn't find the auditorium where his first lecture of English literature was taking place. He wondered around for a while, feeling utterly lost and useless.

"Looking for something?" An American accent sounded behind him and Chris turned to see a smaller guy with dark hair and eyes lined by black lashes. He smirked up at Chris, raising his brows to encourage him in saying something.

"Eh, well yes, actually, don't you know where English literature courses are?"

"I might do," The boy smiled, half smirking; He pushed his glasses up his nose before holding out a hand. "Robert, you are?"

"Chris."

"Aussie, right?" Robert grinned. "Not many of you guys here."

Chris chuckled and ran a hand through his fair hair. "Well I've got two brothers, so that could up the statistics."

Robert chuckled in turn, the sound hearty, "Two brothers? Sounds fun," he grinned. "English then? No offence, you don't look the type."

Chris gave him a crooked smile. "Yeah...I've heard that before. Listen, mate, could you show me the way? I don't t want to be late."

"Of course!" Robert nodded, his smile warm. "You know who you're professor is yet?"

"The only person I’ve gotten to know here at all is you." The Australian admitted. 

"Ah, well happy to be of company," he assured him and patted his arm, "I know a few of the English Professors by face and name, hopefully you'll get Hiddleston," he winked and ushered him along, pausing in front of an old fashioned style building; all pale stone and arches. "Here we are, the arts section. You might see Evans in here, his first name is Chris too," he said excitedly. "I think you'd get along."

"Thanks mate." Chris smiled lightly. He looked up at a big clock above the door arc, noting that he was on time for him class. "Will hopefully see you around." He nodded and quickly rushed inside. 

*

Tom Hiddleston was never late to any one of his lectures, not once and yet here he was rushing across campus; work clutched against his chest as he ran. He reached the art block, just on time; a little exhausted and no doubt much disheveled. It was all the work to do with the new production the university were putting on, he'd gotten to sleep so late last night organizing the script that...well he'd only woken up about half an hour ago. 

He rushed into his lecture theatre and managed to knock into someone on the way in; he dropped his own folders, biting back a groan. "My gosh I'm so sorry," he shook his head and began to pick them up. "I should look where I'm going, sorry, are you hurt?"

The young blond in front of him stumbled a little, but otherwise he seemed unfazed. "That's okay." He said only and crouched down to help him with the papers. "At least we're both on time."

Tom chuckled lightly, "Only just, you're taking this course?" He tilted his head to the lecture theatre.

"Eh, yeah." The other followed his gaze, and then looked back at him with a small smile. "Should get going, don't wanna miss two hours of talking." He said, lifting his rucksack onto his shoulder.

"Well I hope you enjoy it," Tom stood straight, all books in hand once more. "Your name?"

"Chris." The blond introduced himself and added "Hemsworth," with a little hesitation.

"Well Chris, I'm Professor Hiddleston," Tom nodded and smiled brightly, "Welcome to English," then he headed in, holding the door open for the other as he went. 

Chris let out silent whine over his own stupidity and followed the older man inside. The room was already full of other students, sitting at their desks or just wandering around, but as Tom walked in, they all went to their seats and so did Chris, taking the first free spot he could find, next to some blonde girl in the third row.

Tom put his books and work down and went about turning on the computer so he could use the projector, sighing in relief when it seemed to be behaving this morning. As the screen turned on and so did the projector the class seemed to quieten down somewhat. 

"Okay class," his smile was tired but enthusiastic. "We're going to be studying the Tempest..."

Chris had no idea what he was talking about and looked around the class, feeling stupid when he saw that everyone else was already taking down notes in their notebooks. Chris pulled out his own pad and began to take notes a little unsurely, he suspected that very may well end up failing this course...

"...so for your first assignment I want you to write a start to your own story, something with Shakespearian setting; similar era and development," Tom said, "just the first few thousand words or so. Be creative! I want you to theme it around revenge, and don't feel like you have to write like Shakespeare; I don't expect that of any of you yet." 

The class chuckled in unison at that, and they all pulled out blank paper.

Chris almost winced when the girl next to him raised her hand and thought about dragging it back down to avert professor's attention. He'd gotten enough of it today already.

"Mr. Hiddleston, is this our work for the whole lesson today?" She asked, eyes unnaturally wide with expectation.

"Yes, a slow start," he nodded, "nothing too strenuous. If you're unsure about anything please, come to me, I want this assignment finished by the lecture on Wednesday. You can stay behind and work in the theatre if you like, or leave now and do it in your own time; all that matters is that it's done."

She nodded, immediately taking her pen and wrote her name to the corner of the page neatly.

Chris felt awkward. The fact that he seemed to be, and probably was, the only one in the room who’d never studied Shakespeare at this level, it was going to be a challenge for sure. Chris was familiar with it, especially Romeo and Juliet from when he’d studied it a few years back but this felt like a slight shock to the system. Over the half of the things Hiddleston said were just going over his head, it didn’t help also that his professor’s appearance was rather distracting...

Writing in his style but with a Shakespearian-esc theme...Chris sighed, glaring at the empty page in front of him and drummed the pen against his desk; his mind was blank.

Tom disappeared at one point and returned with an espresso coffee in the hand, without he was in danger of falling asleep.

A few students left to supposedly do it in their own time or at least hopefully but most stayed, no doubt grateful for a quiet place to work. 

Tom bit back a sigh as he read an angry email for Kenneth about changes to the Arts department fund, Benedict would have lots to say about this at lunch time. He glanced back at the class, the blonde haired girl...what was it now? Scarlett? He'd seen her briefly during the induction. She looked like she was doing fine, the rest working at a leisurely pace but a few seemed to be struggling; he hoped that this first assignment wasn't too much at once...

Puckering his lips, Chris crossed out his short, poor attempt of a story about husband killing his wife and looked up for an inspiration. He watched his professor for a while, smirking subtly as he frowned at the monitor of the class computer.

He should at least try to write something if he wanted to stay on this university for at least a year. He had to, if nothing else than to see Liam's disappointed face when Chris came back home with some good news...He grinned at the thought and put his pen to the page again, a story of Italian trader who's thinking of a plan how to retaliate against his brother already developing in his head.

During the next hour some more students left, a few of them putting their works on Tom's desk or simply closing the door behind them without a word.

 

Chris was doing fine, sort of, until he looked up to see how little of them remained still writing and got nervous, the ideas he’d mentally planned out slipping from his mind as he felt himself begin to panic. Mr. Hiddleston was looking around the class and Chris quickly turned his gaze to the paper again. He counted the words and packed his things, then stood up and headed out, placing the work on the professor's desk. "I don't know what else to write." He apologized quietly, so he wouldn't disturb the others.

"That's fine, this is plenty," the Professor smiled encouragingly, "have a good day Chris."

"Thanks. Goodbye." Chris nodded and gave him a short smile, then walked out of the door.

Robert was outside chatting with a very tall guy, short dark hair and built up; a huge art folder under one arm. "Hey Blondie!" He dragged his supposed friend over, "this is the other Chris I was talking about."

Chris raised his brows at the nickname, but despite that just smiled and held out his hand to shake the other's.

"Evans," the other Chris shook his hand firmly with a warm smile. "You take...English? Right?"

"Yeah, just finished my first lesson." Chris said and turned to Robert. "Got Hiddleston by the way." He smirked, intentionally leaving out the bit about bumping into him the first second.

"Oh you lucky thing," Robert smiled cheekily.

"They're professors," Evans reminded him. 

"I know, I know...come on, let's go get something to eat."

"So how long have you been studying here?" Chris asked, following them out of the building and over small atrium.

"Me, two years," Robert said, "and Evans..."

"Just one," the other Chris finished, his smile but friendly; he hoisted up his art folder to get a better grip.

"Did you just move here?" Robert asked.

"My dad got a job here so we had to." Chris shrugged.

 

"Wow, you sound so thrilled about it." Robert smirked at him. "Don't worry, I get it. This isn't exactly the US. Or Australia or...wherever..."

"Least Brighton has beach," Evans said cheerily, "can be good for surfing too."

"That's only good if you can surf," Robert pointed out.

"Just because you can't to save your life Downey."

"You can surf?" Chris turned to Evans, his mood visibly improved.

They walked into another building and immediately got lost in the crowd, students teeming around everywhere; Chris had never realized how big the university was until he saw so many people in the canteen. However, he was soon brought out of his thoughts as he was dragged into to the queue.

"Oh, whatever you do don't touch the coleslaw," Robert whispered without explanation and then went forward as his meal was served; the staff behind the counters looking rather intimidating with their flat expressions. 

Once he’d taken his food Robert announced, "I'll go get us a table;" and then began to weave through the crowd with ease. 

"About the surfing," Evans continued, waiting for his meal to be served. "I've tried it, but I'm not so good."

"We can try it sometime?" Chris suggested. It was probably a strange request due to the fact that they had only just met, but he was simply glad for someone to talk with; to talk with someone about something he associated with home. "Could show you some tricks."

"Sure," Evans nodded, "could be fun, though we'll have to go out at about five in the morning; waves are best then or at least that's from my experience."

Robert rolled his eyes as he caught their conversation as they sat down, "five in the morning? Really? Are you guys sure you're students?"

"We're not forcing you to come..."

"I know, I know," Robert smirked subtly. "But we do have to go out some time, like out out. We haven’t yet this year."

"So where are you from Chris?" Evans asked and poured them all a glass of coke he'd bought. "Sidney?"

"Melbourne." Chris shook his head. "The other big city."

"I'm guessing it's nice there?" Robert said, "Sunny and all that."

"Yes." Chris nodded. "All that."

Perhaps England wasn’t going to be quite as bad as he thought.


	2. The Audition

"Have I ever told you how bitterly disappointed I am with every new class every year?"

Tom turned around to face his college, a dark haired man in blue shirt, dark jeans and pile of folders under his arm.

"I always think the new faces could have some potential, something that could make them special, actually help them- and some of them really do- but then they start talking and it's all gone. And I just think Benedict, this is who you're teaching now. The new generation of writers for tabloids and those cheesy, crappy romantic novels which do way better than they should do."

"That bad?” Seeing the other's expression Tom sighed sympathetically. "You never know, they could get better; it's only been one day."

"I know," Benedict agreed. "I still have hope in them...well, some of them. How about you?"

"They seem a little quiet but no one disruptive so I should be grateful," Tom smiled weakly. "I'm just not too sure how many are actually interested in English."

"Test it." Benedict smiled lightly. "Even though I hardly doubt someone would take your course if he wanted to cruise through. Literature is interesting, I doubt they can resist."

"You should have seen their faces when I mentioned Shakespeare," Tom shook his head and took a bite from an apple. "Written anymore of the book?"

"No," he admitted sadly. "I hardly got to do it the last month and with the new year, I'll probably have to postpone it for awhile. I have notes taken down so I won’t lose any ideas, so that's a comforting thought."

"I won't ask you to help with the play then," Tom smirked faintly. "I said I'd help out a little and I've been landed up editing the script into what we want.."

"Oh no," Benedict shook his head so eagerly that he had to push the dark locks that fell forward back. "I'm always glad to help with Shakspeare, you know me. And don't worry about my book, you reading and editing it for me is enough. I'm going for lunch, would you like to join me?"

Tom glanced at his marking, "...sure, I think I can spare the time. Thanks," he smiled lightly and stood. "Problem is I've also been asked to help with casting and well...everything else."

"That can't be that hard," Benedict shook his head and made the 'oh' sound, when he got an idea. "How about the boy from last year? What was his name Jefferson? He was good as Othello."

"I asked him, he's busy because it's his final year but he would have been good," Tom agreed. "Its just finding people willing to act and who do Shakespeare."

"You've got a whole new class full of enthusiasts." Benedict teased and held the door to the canteen for him. "Better cajole them before they start to make excuses to loaded program. And I enjoy directing, so I’d be happy to help with that if you like.”

"Thanks and good plan," Tom chuckled lightly, "if they are actually enthusiasts."

Chris noticed the dark red hair of his professor just as he was passing by their table and smiled lightly to himself. He didn't know the other professors there, but he thought Robert was right. He was probably lucky to get Hiddleston.

"Oh look, it's the cheekbone brigade," Robert smiled as the professors walked past, Evans rolled his eyes at that.

Professor Cumberbatch looked back and gave Robert a disapproving look before following on after Tom.

"Bad experience?" Chris smirked at Robert when he noticed the glare of the other professor.

"No..." Robert muttered, "professor Benedict just has something against me..."

"Perhaps it's the fact that you sort of harass them!"

"I do not! I make witty comments occasionally."

"Everyday nearly."

Chris watched the two argue amusedly, smiling. "Comments, like...about their cheekbones?"

"If only it was just that," The other Chris rolled his eyes and got nudged to his ribs.

"They wear jeans..."

"And?" Evans said.

"I'm only human Chris! Oh gods...Hiddleston is coming over, what have I done!"

Chris turned almost immediately and looked up to face the warm smile of his professor standing behind the fourth chair at their table.

"Sir," Evans was the first to greet him.

"You're very talkative today Robert," Tom commented greeting them all with a nod, "I and professor Cumberbatch thought you might be interested in the upcoming play?"

"What kind of play?" Chris tilted his head.

"Every year the English and Drama departments perform a play," Evans explained.

"Romeo and Juliet but perhaps a slight adaptation," Tom said, "we would love to have anyone interested."

"I can help with the set," Evans offered.

"That would be wonderful."

"Sorry," Chris shrugged. "I don't know if theatre is exactly my thing.."

"Well it's okay if you're a beginner," Tom smiled. "You just have to be passionate, everything else can be taught."

Robert sunk lightly under the table at his words and Evans had to kick him to get him to sit normally.

"I don't know," Chris shook his head, but something about the man's smile triggered his own. "...could try."

"Excellent," Tom beamed, "...Robert?"

"Might take a look." Robert nodded slowly.

"Oh good, well I'll look forward to seeing you at rehearsals," Tom said and then nodded subtly in goodbye before heading back to Benedict.

"You guys are into those things?" Chris turned to his new friends when he left.

"I like painting," Evans shrugged, "I'd be happy to do backgrounds."

"No," Robert shook his head, "they know I hate acting, that's why they ask me; it's like a silent threat to stop bothering them."

Chris chuckled. "Yeah mate, eye for an eye, I guess."

"Why did you agree though?" Evans looked at him with slightly narrowed eyes and smile.

"It just seemed stupid to reject right away." Chris shrugged.

"It is his course," Robert pointed out, "besides you get on Hiddleston's good side and he might give you better marks."

"I really doubt he'd be so corruptible." Evans shook his head. "Hiddleston, definitely not."

"Perhaps not but subconsciously he'll like you more," Robert insisted.

"That could be worth it," Chris smirked.

"Yes, for your studies." Evans nodded firmly. "But please, don't turn into another fanboy."

"It's an awful thing," Robert smirked, "Kenneth glares whenever he catches me in the arts department."

"Branagh? The leader of the department?" Chris checked.

"And of the English and Drama as well, yes." Evans nodded. "It was the same last year as far as I know, some of the girls were just absurd, but Downey here is the worst."

"I'm not!" Robert insisted.

"He needs a girl or boyfriend basically," Evans smirked.

Chris chuckled. "Don't we all?"

"That's why we all like the start of a new school year." Evans smirked. "There's plenty of new girls around."

"But they never want to have anything to do with me," Robert whined.

"They'll get to it." Evans patted his back sympathetically. "I'm sure they'll need someone to repair their cars."

Robert punched him to shoulder and turned to slightly puzzled Chris to explain. "I do mechanical engineering. And Chris here thinks that it involves such menial things as fixing cars!."

"He's building constantly," Evans rolled his eyes, "cluttering up every surface in the flat. You can't even move half the time."

"So you build what...furniture?" Chris asked.

"Nah," Robert waved his hand. "I just need more space for my inventions."

"He tried a robotic hand last week..." Evans pulled a face.

"Really?" Chris raised his brows excitedly. "That must've been awesome!"

Robert's face turned a little pale. "It wasn't..."

"Alright, well, um," Chris chuckled and scratched his neck, bringing Robert back from his thoughts. "Do you have some more lectures today?"

"I do," Robert sighed.

"But I'm free and so is Scarlett," Evans said. "If you want showing around?"

"That'd be great, thanks." Chris smiled. "I don't have anything today either, except the theatre maybe?" He asked with a shrug, taking out his new schedule and map to check it.

"That'll be in the evening," Evans assured him. "Around eight I should imagine. It was last year when they roped me in to be a tree..."

"I have to come here in the evening?" Chris groaned. "Why? I'm not even signed to anything yet."

"Just be glad it's only the theatre," Evans pointed out. "You could have had a class instead, you're lucky for a schedule like this."

"Besides?" Robert grinned, "don't you like Shakespeare?"

*

Evans spent the whole afternoon with showing Chris around his new city. He took him to the beach, and then to the city centre, showing him around the main shopping areas and good places to eat.

The red haired girl Scarlett joined them for a while, telling Chris about the new cinema and rock concerts. They had dinner in one of the cafes they’d mentioned before, Chris quickly texting his mom that he won't be home till evening, before they got on the way back to school to be in time for the auditions. Scarlett pulled away then, mentioning something about a boy called Jeremy.

Kenneth was at the entrance, greeting them as they walked in; a script sat in his hands that he was leisurely flicking through. "Chris," he greeted Evans, sounding surprised and his gaze flitted over Hemsworth. "Sorry, I don't think we've met."

"No," Chris shook his head and waved on Robert, who was waiting for them there, to go inside without him. "Suppose you've only talked with my mom, sir."

"Ah," he noted the accent. "Chris Hemsworth, I'm professor Branagh."

"Alright." Chris nodded and turned his head to the sound of someone clapping his hands shortly to get an attention.

"Go on in," Branagh said with a small smile and walked after them both. Seen as Evans wasn’t performing he headed off to the front seats, leaving Chris alone to wait; he felt nervous and admittedly a little jumpy.

Branagh explained which scene he’d be performing and then headed off. Chris stayed alone again, feeling a little lost without another word. When he looked up he wasn’t quite sure where to go...and he couldn’t spot Evans and Robert from the significant crowd of people at the front. Chris sighed, hopefully not too loudly.

There was a girl up on stage speaking from a script giving flourishing hand gestures, her slightly grating voice echoing around the room.

Behind the mass of students at the front was Hiddleston, sat behind nearer the back; a script in his lap, feet hitched up on the seat in front. He was turning the pages as the speaker on stage went through in leisurely motions, a pen in hand.

The room was big, maybe that's why Chris couldn't find Robert and Evans among the other people there. He noticed the other professor that he'd met on the lunch today- Cumberbatch, was it?- standing next to the stage, gesturing on the three girls sitting in the first row.

He wasn’t really quite sure where to sit and didn't want to disturb anyone by making his way to the front, so Chris just leant against one of the pillars in the theatre’s grand structure, leaning his back against the wall and flashed a small smile at his professor.  
Hiddleston nodded at him and beckoned with a hand for him to come over, flicking through the script again.

Chris pulled himself up, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans and walked over to him, eyes downwards. "Sir," he mumbled quietly, looking up at him only then, immediately noticing the impossible colour of the other's eyes. What was that colour...? Chris shook himself, why was he even thinking about this? Even though admittedly it was a valid debate, they were really quite impossible.

"You may as well sit down," the professor said, keeping his voice quiet for the actress on stage. "They're doing all the female roles first," he pushed down the chair beside him with his foot. "Thank you for coming."

"That's Juliet?" Chris looked at the girl on stage, remembering the lines.

"Maybe," Tom murmured. "I'm not sure," he bit his lip. "What do you think?"

"That doesn't really matter," Chris shook his head and smirked. "I haven't seen the others, but...I don't especially like her."

"The arm gestures are a little..." he didn't finish his sentence but he seemed to somewhat agree, subtly signalling to Ben to being on the next person.

The other man nodded and thanked the girl, sending next on the stage.

"They seem professional," Chris commented quietly and looked at him.

"You can be professional and not be capable of Shakespeare," Tom murmured, glancing at him; the faint outline of Chris's features visible in the dim light. "Some people just can't."

"Yeah," Chris suddenly felt nervous and ran hand through his hair. "Maybe that's why I never really...got into it." he admitted with faint smile.

"You look like a Romeo," Tom smiled subtly, "so you're half way there."  
Chris looked at him and grinned. "Hardly. Not sure anyone knows what he really looked like...despite DiCaprio."

"You just have to be sort of...ruggishly handsome," Tom shrugged lightly, his voice still kept as a whisper. "But can you speak Shakespeare?"

Chris raised his brows at that and quickly looked down, surprised to feel his cheeks blush. "I... no, I don't think so."

"Well if you're eager to learn you can," Tom smiled encouragingly. "As long as you enjoy it, of course."

Chris smirked lightly. He didn't know where it came from, but suddenly he heard himself say. "I- haven't even read what I should recite."

"Oh? Well please, borrow mine," Tom handed him a heavily note laden script, his fingertips brushing against Chris's for a moment.

"Thanks." Chris cleared his throat and sank back onto his chair, burying his nose to the pages to see which scene he was going to have to do...

It was, of course, the balcony scene, one of the longest Romeo's monologues. Chris eyed the page and sighed. "That thou, her maid art far more fair than- I can't even pronounce that." He sighed as he glanced further down the speech, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Just let it flow," Tom assured him. "The rest will just...come.”

"Tom?" Benedict's voice disrupted their quiet. "Just...a little quieter, please." He smirked at his friend and walked over to them, making Chris look directly at the text to hide his shame, he felt bad for being a nuisance.  
He read the text again, trying more to focus on the pronunciation and presentation than on remembering it, frowning in concentration.

"Of course, so terribly sorry," Tom breathed quietly. "What did you think of them?"

"I think Natalie's quite good," Benedict said, looking at the list of names in his hand. "Or the...Bronson's girl? Rita?"

"Perhaps but I think Natalie should get Juliet," Tom agreed. "She's very fluid."

"You're in charge." Benedict smiled lightly at him. "I should get back to our Romeos. The first one..." He didn't finish, but shivered instead.

Tom laughed softly, "well...Chris? Would you like to have a go?"

Chris snapped his head up. "What now?" he looked from Benedict to Tom with wide eyes. 

"But I- I haven't learned it properly yet."

"You can read off of the script," Benedict offered.

"Oh," Chris looked at Tom and his supporting smile. "I can try..."

"Brilliant. Come to the front please." Benedict waved his hand lightly and Chris followed, crumpling the script in his hand nervously. He closed his eyes for a moment and forced himself to calm.

It wasn't until he was standing on the stage when Chris noticed Robert and Evans, grinning at him from their seats directly at the front showing him their support with raised thumbs. He swallowed and looked at Benedict, who nodded at him to start.

Chris shifted on his feet nervously, and held the script in front of him. "He jests at scars that never felt a wound-" He stopped and looked around the people. They were all looking at him in expectation, some of them already rolling their eyes, a few not paying him any attention at all. He felt a bulge in the back of his throat and tried not to think about it; he locked eyes with professor Hiddleston.

Tom smiled reassuringly and nodded for him to continue.

Clearing his throat, Chris smiled faintly and took a deep breath. He tried to imagine what could it be like to sneak under a girl's balcony at night, just because he'd wanted to see her that badly; the love, the adventure and foolishness of it all, and he tried to reflect it in his voice and expression when he looked up from the script, somewhere to the back wall.

"But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?  
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.  
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,  
Who is already sick and pale with grief,  
That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she."

Tom was beaming, Chris was good, like really good. The words actually flowed as he spoke them and not only that, held meaning; there was emotion as well as a capability and he looked the part. He met Benedict's gaze and nodded subtly, the other returned the gesture; they were both decided. They had their Romeo.

*  
"You were actually good, man." Evans patted his back when Chris got off the stage and slumped on the chair they'd been holding for him, flushed in face.  
"I'd be glad if I never had to do that again." He said, blowing his hair of off his forehead.

"Well you should have acted awful then," Robert smirked, "because you've been the best so far easily."

Chris chuckled and shook his head, jumping up a little when he noticed a pair of black shoes next to his chair.

"You've got the part," Benedict said, the a subtle smile on his lips; he handed Chris a clean script. "Robert, you didn't want to try did you...?"

"I don’t think I could match Chris’s standards and he’s perfect for the part besides." Robert smiled innocently.

Chris took the script and stood up, tilting his head to the back of room to tell Evans where he was going, leaving him to Robert's and the professor's conversation.

"Thank you," Chris smiled lightly, holding the borrowed script back to Tom. "Have my own now, apparently."  
Tom took his own back with lithe fingers, "thank you, well yes...you were very good Chris, we'll be happy to have you."

"I really wasn't expecting this when I woke up in the morn." He admitted, grinning. "Definitely not the Shakespeare."

Tom chuckled softly and stood from his seat, "I hope you enjoy it, should help with your course as well."

Chris stepped aside, realising that he in fact was almost as tall as his professor, despite the age difference. "Cool, I mean, at least it'll come in handy."  
"It most certainly will," Tom assured him, tugging on his jacket. "And that paper you gave me this morning, it was good, really. If anything, just be bolder next time."

"You've read it?" Chris raised his brows, then Evans knocked on his shoulder.

"We're leaving, Hemsworth, want to tag along?"

"Eh, no, thanks." Chris shrugged, turning to his friend a little reluctantly. "Gotta get home."

"Your bad." The other Chris shrugged. "We'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, sure."

"But you do have to come out with us sometime," Robert insisted with a grin before Evans finally tugged him away.

"Hope you have a good evening Chris," Tom smiled lightly before shrugging his bag over his shoulder and heading over to talk with Kenneth and Benedict.

"Y-you too sir." Chris nodded quickly.

*  
"That's the new foreign student?" Benedict asked, watching as Chris took his rucksack, shoving the script in and walked out of the door.

"Yes, they moved here from Melbourne." Brannagh nodded. "His father got a job in the centre."

"He's in my class," Tom nodded.

"Oh," Benedict nodded as if it made sense. "He didn't look the English type but with the Shakespeare and everything, I see it now. I just hope him and Natalie will work together."

"Don't we all?" Kenneth pointed out. "Give him some time to adjust, then we'll see. Hopefully he'll be equally good as he was today." He said, closing the folder in his hands and looked at the men before him. "Well, I shall retire, another day of work tomorrow. You should do the same, goodnight guys."

"Good night." They both nodded in greeting as Kenneth walked away.  
"I'll see you Ben," Tom said, a small yawn escaping his lips. "I think I need some extra sleep."  
"You definitely look like you do." Benedict chuckled lowly. "Go, I'll lock up in here. Sleep well Tom."  
"You too, and thanks," his smile was tired as he nodded and then he headed out, pulling his collar up against the wind.  
*  
It was already getting dark when Chris finally got home. He took off his jacket and kicked off his shoes. "Hi everyone!" He called from the hall and joined his family in the living room.

"Hello dear," his mother smiled, "your father's gone to bed already, it's been a long day."

Liam glanced over his brother then back to the television, "he's all smiley."

"He really is," she raised her brows, resting his hands on the kitchen desk. "Something interesting happened?"

"Yeah," Chris nodded and sat down at the breakfast bar. "Had my first lecture today. And accidentally auditioned for a play."

"How do you audition accidentally?" Liam grinned, "did you get the part?"

Chris narrowed his eyes on his little brother, then reached into his rucksack and pulled out the script. "Yep, I'm Romeo." He grinned.

"I bet it's the girl who's Juliet who's made him all smiley," Liam stuck out his tongue. "Only fancying makes people go all smiley like that."

"Oh that's wonderful!" His mother beamed and stood, pulling him into a hug. "I'm so glad, and did you make any friends?"

"Shut up Liam," Chris rolled his eyes. "I met like.. three guys. One's going to the lectures with me, Scarlett. Then Robert and Chris."

"They're nice?" His mother checked, "...friendly?"

"Very." Chris chuckled. "Don't worry, they're completely normal."

"And your professor, not too strict?"

“No, not at all.” Chris shook his head and looked down, playing with the corner of his script, "No...he's fine."

"Fine?" His mother frowned slightly, "you will tell me if there's any problems, right honey?"

"Mom," Chris whined. "He's cool, it was just one day, I don't know him that well."

"Okay, okay..." she sighed, "I just worry."

"You don't have to." Chris hopped off the chair, taking the script under his arm and stole a plate with apple pie that was left on the table, supposedly for him. "I'll be I'm my room," he informed her, accidentally letting a yawn slip out.

*

Tom, fortunately, was no where near late this Thursday for the classes second lecture. He was on the right bus for sure, with plenty of time to spare; it was nice to be so relaxed for a change. Rain pattered against the bus windows in steady rhythm and he gazed out at the blurry image of the passing street.

*

It didn't even surprise Chris that the day he'd forgotten his umbrella, it has started to rain. it was just his luck but in fairness he wasn’t exactly used to all this rain...he knew that it rained a lot in England, but he’d never anticipated this often. He had to squint to stop rain getting in his eyes, already soaking wet, holding the script above his head as it was the first and only thing he had at hand.

He broke into a run, he couldn’t miss his bus.


	3. The Rain

Tom was in his own thoughts, hardly registering his movements as he pulled his own bag off the seat beside him to make way for the new people entering the bus; the rain thrumming against the windows heavily. His thoughts very much lot elsewhere, his gaze still looking out of the window though focused on nothing in particular, the shapes and colours merged and blurred by the weather.

Chris slumped down on the seat with a huff, cursing when he looked down at the crumpled pages of his script in his hand and flicked through it, glad to see that the ink, even though still blurry, formed words clear enough to read.

"Oh my god, Chris..." Tom only just realised it was his student sat beside him, his eyes flitted up and down taking in his rather soaked appearance. "Are you quite alright?"

"Mr Hiddleston!" Chris jumped lightly. "Sorry, I hadn't noticed- I'm okay, it's...just the weather." He chuckled apologetically, pushing his hair off his face again; still sodden from the rain.

"Of course," Tom said, "but you must be soaking...it's awful out there."

"It looks like forgetting your umbrella is a no-no here," He muttered with a faint smile and shifted uncomfortably, his wet jeans sticking to his skin.

Tom smiled apologetically, "well living in England, you'll soon get used to the rain I'm afraid."

"Great." Chris sighed though he still smiled despite himself, it wasn’t as if he were really expecting anything else. He looked around, then down on the script in his hands. "So you, um, you take bus to work?" He asked, to break the silence.

"Well I would normally walk or run but..." he just smirked softly and pointedly glanced outside, the rain pattering against the window noisily. "Oh your script! Don't worry, I'll have Ben print you off another one..."

"That's okay," Chris waved his hand with the script in it. "It's still legible. So you're a runner? No, sorry, I-" he shook his head, it almost felt rude to start asking Tom about his personal life; not that running was really a controversial topic.

"It's fine," Tom assured him, "well, sometimes...it's just good, for clearing your head, you know? No really, your script will have to last you a while; take another one. Might even be easier to have two."

Chris chuckled lowly. "Okay, fine I'll ask for the second one." He looked at him with crooked smile.

"Good, good," Tom smiled warmly. "You’re happy you auditioned then?"

"I guess..." Chris shrugged. "Just hope I get to grips with it before it's too late."

"Just remember that it's not about understanding each individual word," Tom said, "it's about understanding the message, what characters are trying to say; it's easier than you think."

"It sounds really easy when you put it like that," Chris grinned. "To just _see_ what it means. I guess it's just different for an English literature expert."

The professor chuckled softly, "experience does help yes."

Chris couldn't but smirk to himself. _The way he laughs_ , he thought and shook his head. Cute wasn't just the word he'd use, amusing maybe. He really needed to switch this off in his head, if the professor kept on becoming more distracting in lectures he was doomed; but then he could hardly just shut off his thoughts, could he?

"There's rehearsal tonight," Tom said, "but don't worry if you can't make it."

"No I can." Chris nodded, wrenched out his thoughts, his speech a little slurred as he collected himself. "Don't have any plans anyway."

"Oh good," Tom smiled lightly, glancing back at the rain outside; it didn't appear to be letting up at all. "Well, as I said, I hope you enjoy it."

Chris followed his gaze, pulling a face when he realised they were about to get off at the next stop. "Yeah, hope so. And if not, at least the others will have something to laugh at," He grinned.

Tom chuckled gently again, "well, Romeo and Juliet is always quite funny; the frivolity of it all."

"It's about two kids who sleep with each other and then kill themselves." Chris insisted, raising his brows. 

"But it's all so ridiculous," Tom breathed, "it's not really love, their just infatuated; in love with the /idea/ of love rather than the thing itself."

"So they die for nothing?" Chris's brows furrowed lightly as he's trying to comprehend.

The bus stopped and he got on his feet, tugging his sweatshirt closer to himself and hopped off to the pavement, his sneakers immediately soaked up.

Tom pulled the hood of his coat over his head, "No, they don't believe they die for nothing; they think they're sacrificing everything they have for love and for them, that's enough. To them it's real, but in the end it's all just fantasy." He reached into his bag and pulled out an umbrella, "take this, else you'll just get more soaked."

Chris looked at him from under his damp hair, fat droplets of water falling from it onto his lashes, sticking them together. "I think I already am," He smiled, but took the umbrella regardless, opening it up. 

"It will at least stop you getting more wet," Tom pointed out, tugging his hood up properly. "And at least, today, neither of us will be late."

"Most likely," Chris nodded. They started to walk towards the campus and Chris thought of holding the umbrella above the both of them, but then changed his mind. That just'd have been a little inappropriate. 

He rushed himself under the safety of the roof as soon as he could, putting the umbrella down and shaking the water off before he held it out to his professor. "Thank you, definitely taking mine tomorrow."

Tom chuckled lightly again and took it from Chris's grip gently, "No problem, I'll see you in there Chris," he nodded and then headed into their lecture theatre. 

The boy nodded and strode to the bathroom. There was no way he could get dry in the ten minutes he had, but at least he could sit on the radiator. He took off his jacket and placed it on the warm metal, tucking the script in between it and the wall and went to adjust his hair a little; mainly so it would stop dripping onto his face and into his eyes.

He couldn't but raise his brows at the reflection in the mirror. His blonde hair was stuck out in wet strands around his head, face covered with drops and his button nose was flushed pink. He just rolled his eyes at the thought that he was looking like this the whole time _and_ then reminded himself that it didn’t matter because it was his professor, his _professor_. 

Tom placed the soaked umbrella in the corner of the room and shrugged off his own sodden coat to hang up. He liked the theatre before a lecture, empty and calm; his own space. He ran a hand through his damp hair and began to take out all of the papers he'd need to give back today. 

Chris wasn't first in the theatre, but there wasn't a lot of people there anyway; no one he really knew. 

He took his seat, it probably was his by now, and waited for the lecture to start, beginning to pass the time by watching the damp curls of his professor's hair slowly getting their volume back. He blinked and forced himself to look down at his hands, least when Scarlett arrived he’d have someone to talk to. 

Tom waited for everyone to arrive before he handed out the assignments, having left small comments on each one. Then he went back to his desk to set up the board as everyone read through what he'd written, shrugging off his jacket which was also quite damp leaving himself in just a shirt and waistcoat; much to Chris’s horror yet delight.

Chris flicked through the writing, paying attention just to the teacher's notes, written neatly along the edges. When he glanced back up, his eyes stopped on the firm back shaping under the dark fabric. Gods, he really needed to...

"Right class..." Tom stood and began his lecture, it went on for just over an hour and no seemed too bored by it which Tom took as a good sign. It was mainly focused on Romeo and Juliet's relationship and the dynamics of it; how it was forbidden but when you're so in ‘love’ you simply don't care...

Chris was really interested by the lecture which surprised him admittedly, everything his professor was saying was fascinating; he also couldn’t deny he loved the way the Professor’s gaze seemed to be dreamy and distant when he was talking, like he was very much in another world; that's why he growled lowly when his phone vibrated in his pocket. 

It was a text from Robert, telling him that there was some party in one of his friend's house this Saturday, and that he needed to know whether he's coming or not. Chris thought about for a moment, but then eventually answered yes. He may as well, though he wasn’t quite sure how much he trusted Robert. 

Eventually the lecture was over, and Tom sat back down as people finished taking their notes. 

"I have another assignment, which I want in for monday," Tom said, "I want you to write a new setting with a similar relationship dynamic, something forbidden; dangerous. Have fun with it." 

Chris rolled his eyes lightly, having absolutely no idea what his essay should be about. He packed his things and walked down to Tom's desk.

"Um, I just wanted to ask about the rehearsal tonight." 

"Yes?" Tom raised a brow, the usual warm smile curved onto his mouth.

"In the aula again?" Chris asked, "At..?"

"Eight," Tom nodded, "shouldn't go on past ten."

"Okay, goodbye then." Chris gave him a light smile and left.

Tom glanced back at his computer when he realised he was watching him go and shook his head to himself. 

*

Evans was outside trying to manipulate a canvas into his folder, "oh hey Chris, sorry I-er..." he shoved the canvas down and it finally slipped in, he stood. "Lunch?"

"Sure thing." Chris smirked and looked up. The sky was still grey, but at least it wasn't raining anymore. "Robert's having lectures?"

"Yup, something about making motors in boats I think," Evans shrugged, "but Jeremy should be free, I don't think you've met yet have you?"

"No," Chris shook his head, following him to the canteen. "I guess not, don't know a lot of people here yet."

"You'll like him," Evans smiled, "he does some sort of sport degree thing here, really good at archery."

"Archery?" Chris smirked. "People still do that?"

"Jeremy practically lives archery," Evans chuckled. "He built his own firing range in his backyard."

"What?" Chris raised his brows and chuckled. "Now that just sounds creepy, mate."

"He's dedicated," Evans shrugged chuckling. "We call it his nest."

"Talking 'bout the Cuckoo's nest?" The teasing voice sounded behind them. "Don't worry, you'll see it on Saturday anyway."

"Jeremy," Evans smiled. "This is Chris."

"Robert has told me," Jeremy held out a hand, "hope he hasn't scared you off."

"Scared doesn't describe it really." He smirked and shook Jeremy's hand shortly. "Chris." 

"I know," the smaller boy nodded. "The Crocodile Dundee one." he jested, even though his face was straight aside from a hint of a smirk curving at the edge of his lips.

"Yeah," Chris chuckled, "that one."

"What's happening on Saturday?" Evans asked.

"A party," Jeremy said, "you're all invited."

"The one when we only sit in front of your LCD and play video games, or the one when there are actually people?" Steve asked. 

"Girls are coming, don't worry Steve." Jeremy winked. "So, are you going for lunch or what?" 

"Good, good," Evans nodded, "and don't worry, I'll make sure Scarlett comes," he added with a teasing grin before turning down the corridor to the dining halls. 

*   
Chris didn't realise that he was standing in front of the aula _before_ the said time. Only just when he checked his cell phone, wondering why he was the only one there, he found out he still had good fifteen minutes to the start. 

He chuckled. Being somewhere on time was hardly his habit. Was he really looking forward to it that much?

Tom cradled the scripts against his chest in protection from the rain as he hurried through the theatre doors, dropping them down on the first seat available, checking in relief to see that most of them were dry and pulled his sodden hood from his face; the ends of his hair drenched and stuck to skin.

"I'd have lent you an umbrella," a light-hearted voice sounded from behind him. "But I don't have one."

"Oh! Chris, hello," he chuckled lightly, pushing the damp hair from his face, turning round to face him. "Well thank you, but the scripts made it still at least."

"Good news." Chris smiled and stood. "I think there was a towel in the bathroom..." he rubbed the back of his neck, already walking there.

"Oh, thank you..." Tom shrugged off his soaked coat. 

Chris came back a moment later with small green towel in his hand and handed it to Tom.   
"Hopefully it will stop raining before we end here."

"We can dream," he smirked weakly, "thank you," he nodded taking the towel; bringing it to his face and then his neck.

Chris nodded and looked down, taking a step aback as if to give him some space or privacy. His eyes found their way up to his professor's face again anyway, despite all his tries, and he swallowed, watching as Tom's eyes closed and lips slightly parted when he tilted his head back, drying his neck.

"Thank you," Tom said again, smiling warmly. He shrugged the towel over the back of a seat, "please, have a new script." He pulled out a dry one and held it out.

"Yeah right, the script." Chris breathed, quickly refocusing his attention on the text. "Thank you." He murmured, taking it from him without another look and went back to his seat on the other side of the room.

Tom hung his damp jacket on the back of another seat, "Are you familiar with the script of Romeo and Juliet?"

"Not completely, no," Chris admitted reluctantly and bit his lower lip. "I don't think I've ever read it whole."

"You might want to," Tom said, his tone gentle. "Before the next rehearsal. Just read it once over."

"Yeah I should." Chris agreed, looking at the script in his hands and opened it absentmindedly. "Just need to get over the old language used."

"Ignore it, see it as normal speech you would read everyday," Tom encouraged. "The meanings are no different, you just must let it flow in your mind."

"I know." Chris smiled lightly. "You said that even before. I just don't know if I like Shakespeare that much in all honesty." 

"Comedies are best to start with," Tom said, combing back his wet hair with his fingers. "The Tempest, perhaps."

"That's the one we're going to be talking about in our lectures?" Chris asked. "You seem to like him a lot." He pointed out with a smile.

"Of course! How could one not?" Tom beamed, "I don't know why, I just love it."

Chris chuckled at the enthusiasm of his. "Well one reason more why to try."

Tom began to rummage through the scripts to find his annotated one, "I must admit Romeo and Juliet is probably one of my least favourites but its still a classic."

"The biggest romance of all time." Chris nodded, echoing something his mother had once said. He turned his gaze to the script again, looking the first scene with his character in it.

Tom hopped up onto the stage in a lithe movement and then began to bustle about the back.

"Oh hey," a voice sounded from behind Chris. "You're going to be Romeo, right? Well I'm Juliet."

Chris turned around to the voice. A small girl with cute face and long brown hair was smiling at him, her hazel eyes sparkling with excited; a script was clutched tightly in her hands

"Chris." He said shortly. "I mean, er-hi, nice to meet you." 

She held out her hand, "good to meet you too Chris. I'm Natalie. This should be fun."

"Guess so." Chris nodded. "You're in a fresh year as well, or...?"

"Yep," her smile was bright. "Psychology, you?'

"English." He said and tilted his head to the stage where Hiddleston was still preparing things for the scene they were about to play.

"Oh," she nodded. "That makes sense I suppose. I've never done Shakespeare like this before, so I'm a little nervous."

"Me neither." Chris admitted with a chuckle. "This was one big accident actually." 

The door opened again and some more kids, probably the rest of the cast, ran in, shaking the water off their clothes and umbrellas; a general mumble of conversation and laughs filling the theatre.

Benedict followed right after. "My, my, it's really something out there." He huffed and joined Tom on the stage; shrugging off his anorak as he went.

Tom chuckled lightly, "its not too fun, no." He nudged a few more blocks into place with his foot, "Do you think this will do?"

"Depends on what you’re aiming for." Benedict smirked. "I’m just kidding, it’s fine." He then turned to the students, clapping his hands to get their attention. "Alright class, welcome to our first official rehearsal, for those who don’t know us, my name is professor Cumberbatch, this is professor Hiddleston, and we would like to thank you for joining our little group. I’m sure we will have a great time."


	4. Just a dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the huge delay, hope that if anyone is reading yous enjoy. x

It was their first rehearsal and the students admittedly looked excited which Tom found comforting,

"Right, well. Let‘s see what you can do."

 

They started with simple scenes, allowing people to bring on scripts and sometimes they started directing their movements; Benedict focused on words, pronunciation while Tom tried to encourage people to use mannerisms and really act. 

He had gone to drama school briefly so, for him, this was just like reliving the past. It was nice in that sense, the whole scenario and setting making him feel nostalgic.

Chris's first scene was a simple conversation with a boy, well simple for Shakespeare. The boy was about two years older than him and played Benvolio, Romeo's cousin. Chris tried his best to pretend like he was in love during the scene but in truth he was finding it quite hard to simply fabricate such an emotion in his mind, but he still tried his best, so he could complain about the disadvantages of it to his supposed ‘cousin’.

"Try and be more natural, don't think too much," Tom told him as soon as they’d finished and they started the scene again.

Chris nodded and tried again, reading the lines then, casting his eyes to the ground, shaking his head lightly.   
_  
"A sick man in sadness makes his will,  
A word ill urged to one that is so ill.  
In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman." _ He said, and looked up at the other boy determinedly.

The other boy replied a little shakily, he needed more work. Tom locked gazes with Ben and knew they shared the same thought. 

 

"Good Chris, much better," he praised.

"Thanks," he smiled weakly. He felt almost bad, getting praise early on, especially when everyone else was trying just as hard; perhaps Tom was just being especially nice to him, having just moved over from the other side of the world and everything.

Natalie was on next and she was marvelous, every word spoken fluidly and with meaning. 

 

"Really good," Tom assured her excitedly when she finished, eyes wide. "Keep it up."

Chris loved the way she delivered the words, he envied the ease at which she seemed to be able to do it. It all appeared and sounded so believeable, as if it were all true and she really was Juliet. He felt like a real amateur next to her, and decided to do his best to get up to her standards. Really, it was the least he could do.

Ben announced a break and the actors dispersed. Tom perched on the edge of the stage, his legs dangling off the edge and Benedict sat down next to him.

 

"I think it's a good start."

"It is," Tom agreed. "And we have months to perfect this, it'll be great."

Chris went to his bag and took out a bottle of water to take sip.

"I was just thinking," Natalie's smiley voice sounded from behind him. "Are you going to Jeremy's party this Saturday?"

"Yeah," Chris nodded and offered her the bottle, which she received with a shy smile. "Robert invited me, so I guess I am."

"I'll guess I'll see you there then," Natalie said, "you're good you know, for someone who hasn't done this before."

"Ah thanks," Chris chuckled and it sounded awfully dishonest. "No, I just...I’ll be glad to see you there on saturday." He said, not knowing what else to say.

"Same here," she smiled subtly and then sauntered back to the stage.

Benedict nudged Tom to his back with his knee and when the other looked up, he tilted his head to Chris and Natalie. "Looks like our lovers are getting on well." he smiled quietly. "That’s good, it will help with the chemistry on stage."  
It will," Tom agreed, his tone a little reluctant. "Though we don't want any actual relationship drama half way through rehearsals." 

Benedict chuckled lowly. "No, definitely not. So we have to hope it will last or won’t start at all."

"One or the other," Tom agreed, mentally wishing it would be the latter; he had a feeling it really wouldn’t go well. "No doubt this year we'll end up with enough drama to deal with as it is."

"Oh?" Benedict raised his brows. "Bad hunch?"

"Something like that," Tom laughed almost nervously.

"I’m sure we will be fine." Benedict patted his shoulder. "Alright! The next scene will give you a chance to explore the stage but for now I’m going to ask Romeo and Juliet to stay in their seats, and I want..."

Chris was relieved to hear that he didn't have to act now, and moved his things to one of the front rows so he could watch the others; Natalie soon setting down next to him. The lines were clumsy and movements awkward but there was potential, it was undeniable; this play could be decent. It really could. As the scene was ending, Professor Cumberbatch approached them.

"Chris, Natalie, we just want you to do one last scene before the end," Benedict told them as the others finished up their own scene; Tom telling them what they could improve. 

"Yeah, sure." Chris nodded and stood up, pushing his hair off of his forehead and out of his eyes as he did so, and Natalie hopped on the stage as well. 

 

"How should it be?"

"The balcony scene," Benedict smiled subtly. “As you see in films and such.”

"Oh," Chris sighed and turned to the said page in his script. "So should I like...hide somewhere?" He asked with nervous smile in return.

"That box should do for now," Benedict assured him, nodding in the object's general direction, glancing up when he saw Kenneth walking in.

Chris nodded and went to sit behind the box, chewing on his bottom lip when he heard the chuckles from the audience, no doubt it was an amusing sight. Natalie sat on another box on the other side of the stage and Benedict nodded at him to start.

He rested his forearm on the box, pretending like he was peeking up from behind it, and started to retell the same lines, just as he did for his audition. The lines flowed better, though of course there was still plenty of room for improvement but it was a relief to already feel and hear himself getting better.

Natalie spoke her parts with passion and enthusiasm, smiling at Chris encouragingly the whole way through; her eyes glinting. When it came to the part where Romeo reveals himself to Juliet Chris jumped over the box in a fluid motion, and spoke his lines to Natalie with what he hoped was a romantic tone, who seemed genuinely surprised to see him. She really was damn good at acting. Natalie played out her part well, looking at Chris with utter adoration; whether it was acted or not it was impossible to tell.

Benedict watched them with light smile on his face, and stopped Chris mid sentence. "Brilliant!" he chuckled. "I wasn't even expecting you two to be this good, but you obviously are. Natalie, I think your Juliet will be truly amazing."

"T-thank you," she blushed and stepped down.

Kenneth was talking to Tom at the back and didn't seem especially happy, Benedict frowned slightly when he glanced over. 

"Alright kids, I think we can call it a day, you were great, um, we'll let you know when the next rehearsal will be, safe journey home and good evening," Benedict said his goodbyes quickly and walked over to Tom and Kenneth, raising his brows in question. "Something's wrong?"

"Our funding," Kenneth said, "it's being cut back a lot this year, more than I thought. That's all. Just no...unnecessary spending."

"What does that mean?" Benedict frowned. "Do we have to call this off?"¨

"Just keep it cheap as you can," Kenneth said, "but it may have to be if things go badly..."

"No, Tom's working very hard to make this all work," Benedict insisted. "And the plays always make some money from the tickets."

"I know, I know..." Kenneth sighed. "Just try and keep everything homemade at least, we'll make our own costumes."

 

"We can do that," Tom nodded. "And all our own sets."

"Yes, we can figure that out." Benedict hummed. "Can we keep the aula for rehearsals at least?"

"Yes," Kenneth nodded, "aside from that one night next week, the Philosophy department are having a discussion evening-thing."

"Okay," Benedict said and looked at Tom. "We can skip one week."

"Or just do it somewhere else," Tom shrugged.

"Why not?" Benedict agreed. "Thank you Kenneth for the warning, we'll be more cautious."

"Well," Kenneth looked to the stage. "I hope rehearsals go well, good evening to you both." Then he nodded before he headed out.

Benedict smiled sadly at Tom and went to pack his things, the students slowly leaving, most of them still wandering around just to catch a murmurm of what the teachers were talking about.

"It will be fine," Tom stated. "It will be," though he didn't sound too sure.

"I know," Benedict sighed, putting his script back into his bag and then his bag over his shoulder. "I just don't understand the hierarchy here. Why do they have to cut us off first?" He shook his head.

"Because we're the arts," Tom said, his smile a weak one. "A dying race." He thumbed his coat over the back of the chair, thankful that it was dry. "Least the rain has settled down a little."

"I have my car with me, would you like me to give you a lift?" Benedict asked as they both walked out of the aula and locked it behind him; all the students out and heading home.

"It's okay, really," Tom shook his head. "The rain isn't so bad now, but thank you."

"I'll see you tomorrow then, have a good night." Benedict said with a smile and quickly headed to his car, keeping his head low and holding his bag close to his chest.

"See you," Tom nodded and then hurried out, running to the bus stop; the rain light and gentle as it pattered onto his shoulders.

*  
By the time Chris got home, the rain stopped had entirely. He quietly opened the door to his house and went to his room, taking off his sodden clothes and slumping down on the bed. It was quite late and he was knackered. 

He felt like dozing off when his phone beeped loudly.   
_  
"Thanks for rehearsal today, I had a great time."  
_  
He smiled and then scrolled down to see that it was from Natalie- and the smile disapeared from his face. He was glad that she texted him, really; it was good to make friends. In a way it was a relief. The thing that got him worried was the briefest thought that had flahsed in his mind before and...but there was no chance Mr. Hiddleston could've had his phone number. Why on earth Chris had thought he might have texted him, he had no idea. He just...liked the man, that was all; he had every faith he’d be a good teacher.

*

 

Ben had tried to call him three times but Tom'd switched his phone onto silent, he didn't feel like talking. Tom made himself tea and tried to relax, utterly exhausted from the whole day and chilled from the rain. 

He slept restlessly, constantly being woken but he didn't know why. Tossing and turning every few minutes. It was like there was a thought coiling at the back of his mind, one he didn't want to acknowledge. Tom just hoped it would go away.

*

Chris tucked the phone under his pillow. He was feeling very tired all of a sudden and gave a sigh of relief as his body sagged into the soft bed. He fell asleep easily, the exhaustion from the day getting to him eventually.. A few moments, or a few hours later, he felt something brushing lighty against his cheek and slowly opened his eyes, blinking to get them to focus. "W-what...?"  
There was a hand on his chest.  
Chris was pushed back onto the bed and then a mouth was slanting against his own. Tom's hand traced his chest and Chris felt his breath hitch when his t-shirt was tugged down, the short beard on Tom's chin brushing against the sensitive skin on his neck. Then he froze for a moment because... _oh my god_ , Tom's his teacher and this is really not what they should be doing. But Tom used that moment to start proceeding down Chris's body with his lips, licking at his collarbone as Chris gave in and tugged Tom closer, moaning softly. Then he let his hands travel down Tom's back, and finally rest on his-

Chris woke up horrified at himself. He sat up and his head fell into his hands, breathing heavily. "No, this didn't happen. This just did not happen..."

 

"Chris, dear?" His mother was standing in her dressing gown in the door of their kitchen, narrowing her eyes against the light of the fridge that Chris had opened. "It's...early."

"I know," He sighed, finally closing the fridge, pulling out the milk. "Just couldn't sleep."

"Oh..." his mother frowned subtly. "Any particular reason?"

He shook his head, pouring himself a glass of milk and leaned against the kitchen desk. "A...bad dream," he said quietly and looked up at her with light smile. "Go back to bed, I'm okay, really."

"Just a dream? Good," his mother squeezed his shoulder. "Try and get more sleep," she told him with a small smile before going back up the stairs.

He nodded and as soon as she disappeared, his facade fell and Chris' brows knitted together, his lips narrowing into a thin line. He put the glass aside and went back to his room, rubbing his nape. With a sigh he slumped back into bed.


	5. A sunny day

"Jeremy?"

"Yes?"

"How much booze should I buy, slash how many people have you invited tonight exactly?" Robert asked, nudging Evan's foot with his own from where they stood in an isle of their local supermarket.

Jeremy appeared with two six packs of beer and put them in the shopping cart. "About...twenty? Is this too little?"

"Too little?" Robert half choked, "Get three more of those, we'll chose some of the finer things." He began to walking down to the wine and spirits. Evans rolled his eyes.

"Better make sure he doesn't get _too_ much," he said and then followed on after him.

*

At quatre past eight, Chris was standing before Jeremy's house, according to the coordinates Robert had given him, and rang the bell.

"Chris! Hey, Jeremy, Aussie's here!" Evans greeted him with one can of beer in his hand. "Come on, get inside." He beckoned at him at him to follow and Chris did.

"Thanks," he chuckled, raising his brows when he saw the crowds of people squished inside, as they got further in, the music was pounding so ludly it made the _air_ practically vibrate. "There's a lot of people here!" He shouted a little to drown out the loud music and voices surrounding.

"Yeah, well, Jeremy didn't count..." Evans chuckled, leading him through. "Apparently this was 'twenty' people." 

"Twenty it is!" Jeremy, dressed in dark jeans and simple black tee. "Twenty _and_ friends."

"Oh right," Chris nodded and took the offered cup of...whatever it was. "That explains it."

"So...forty," Evans said, "and counting..."

"It'll be fun!" Robert assured him, already rather tipsy and squeezed his arm. 

"I'm not worried about that," Evans grinned. "More so about you."

"I can handle my drink, don't worry." Robert assured him, his speech a little lazy. "We're all in the back yard, come on." He waved at Chris and lead him through the crowd.

" _If_ I put an apple on my head?" Robert asked as they walked out. "Could you shoot it off, Renner?"

He chuckled, "Or I might shoot your head."

Chris and Evans followed right behind. 

"Since it looks like no one’s bothered to tell you," Evans nudged him lightly and pointed to the few people sitting on a bench and chairs by the porch, "I think you might know them already though. But, that’s Scarlett, the boy next to her is Mark, Jeremy's roommate. He's not around much and a bit shy, but he's a cool guy. The other girl is Gwyneth, she's here with her boyfriend. They've been together since like..ever. And Natalie you know."

"Yes," Chris nodded and smiled when Natalie looked up.

"Hey Chris," she smiled and nodded in return, drink in hand.

"Robert I'm not going to-"

"It will be _fine_ , you're a great shot," Robert was running to the other end of the firing range; settling with balancing a beer can on his head instead of an apple.

"Natalie, I'm- Jesus he ain't gonna do that, right?" Chris's eyes widened. "Hey Chris!"

"Don't worry," Evans shook his head from where he was already sitting. "Renner's responsible enough not to ruin his arrows with blood."

"Oh, right. Comforting," Chris laughed.

Robert paused at the end of the shooting range, balancing the can on his head with a little difficulty. He held up his arms and beamed, "Go on!"

 

Renner picked up one of his bows and cocked an arrow, drawing back the bow string with precision; he released it in seconds and the can on Robert's head was shattered into little pieces.

"Oh!"

"Wow!"

The crowd was obviously amused, clapping their hands and whistling.

"I don’t think I've ever seen anything like that," Chris breathed, relieved that the arrow pierced the beer can and not Robert.

"Don't worry," Jeremy smiled subtly. "I know what I'm doing."

"Thank you! That was beautiful my friend!" Robert sang as he came back over, "Evans did you see?"

 

"Yes Robert," he sighed fondly. "I saw."

"Jeremy's the best," Natalie next to him said. "You can't beat him in archery."

"I wouldn't dare to try," Chris smiled at her lightly and sipped his drink. 

Natalie smiled at him playfully and then turned back, noticing the few arrows left in the targets; nearly all perfect.

"Shouldn't we be dancing?" Robert exclaimed.

"You aren't nearly drunk enough..." Evans reminded him.

"Now that can easily be solved!"

"So," Chris cleared his throat when Robert rushed past them inside the house again. "Actress, huh?"

"When I'm not doing psychology," Natalie shrugged, her smile friendly and lingering. "Which English course are you on?"

"Literature." Chris said. "I always wanted to do humanities, and when we moved here, literature was the only one free, so... but it's cool, I like it. And so far the lectures don't seem too bad either."

"Depends on your professor in a way," Natalie shrugged and drank a large gulp of her drink. "As long as they make everything interesting for you."

Chris shot her a quick glance, then looked down on his cup. "Yeah...of course. Hey I finished mine, can I bring you something to drink?" 

"Something fruity," she nodded. "Thank you."

Chris took her empty cup and went inside. He made his way through the people dancing there, the music impossibly loud and pouding,the air far heavier and humid here than outside, and poured them both juice with vodka. Or at least that’s what it looked like...

"Here you go," he handed her the cup. "I don't think there was anything more fruity."

She chuckled softly, "this is good, thank you." She sipped it gingerly. "So, how are you finding it here"?

"This party?" Chris breathed. "Loud, crowded. Honestly I didn't expect to be at a party like this after leaving Australia."

"And Brighton?" She asked, "how's Brighton going for you?"

"It’s not that bad." Chris shrugged. "I've only gotten to experience it this week. But the people are nice." He smiled subtly. "And I like the beach."

"We should go some time," Natalie said and then hastily added, "all of us I mean. We should all go."

"After or before you and me will go grab a coffee?" Chris took a sip of his drink casually and turned to her with a crooked smile.

"Um..." she stuttered but her smile didn’t falter, "After. We'll need warming up. The sea is freezing here."

"Okay," Chris chuckled lowly. "Sounds good."

"We can organise it some time," Natalie nodded and music suddenly blasted through from another room. "Dance?"

"Oh, I..." Chris looked back at the house and shrugged apologetically. "I'm not a good dancer."

"You sure?" She smiled and tilted her head.

"You should've seen my prom." He chuckled. "...maybe slow dance."

"Maybe at different party then," she giggled. "Don't think you could quite slow dance with this."

"No, I suppose not." He agreed. "Do you want to go and join the others?"

She nudged him lightly with her arm, "I'm okay out here I think."

"Me too."

"So..." she said and looked down, "have you got a girlfriend?"

"Ah," Chris breathed a chuckle, casting his eyes to the ground as well for a moment. "No, I don't. Haven’t gotten to know a lot of people here yet."

"Good," she hummed and stood, "I'm going to go find Scarlett, see you soon Chris."

He nodded and waited till she left, then joined the others. He had a good feeling about this. Natalie seemed nice enough and they got along well, he was sure they’d be good friends...perhaps even more, and it would be a good distraction from well... _other things._

"Chris!" Robert had greeted him enthusiastically. "We need to-"

The other Chris cut him off, "I think perhaps I should take you home." Robert pouted. "We'll see you Chris."

*

Chris spent his Sunday mostly on his essay, as well as dealing with his hangover. He wasn't quite sure how it happened, his memory was a little fuzzy past a certain time; all he knew was that he woke up on Jeremy's sofa with his head on the said man’s shoulder and Natalie curled up to his side.

Their morning was slow and quiet, all of the guest leaving the house as soon as they could, just in case they'd be asked to help with cleaning, leaving Jeremy and Mark, who was still asleep on the bathroom floor with moustache drawn under his nose, on their own.

*

The next day it was sunny, a nice cool breeze rushing up from the sea.

Professor Hiddleston knew it was the perfect morning to run in and he hadn't had a chance to in so long it would be somewhat a relief. He packed away a suit into his bag and dressed in his running gear before setting out; the morning sun warm against his skin.

As Tom walked into the university Chris spotted him, but only just; his shorts and trainers making him almost unrecognisable at a quick glance. Chris quickly tore his gaze away before it became staring and looked back to Natalie who was describing some farcical event in pyschology.

Tom nodded to them a little breathlessly in greeting with his usual friendly smile and went into the bathrooms aside the lecture theatre to change into more presentable attire.

The lecture started and Tom already had their essays on his desk. The class wasn't full, and he doubted that it ever would be again, but that was just the way of univeristies. 

Once the lecture was over Tom began to read through the essays he'd been given, having given the class a simple quick task to complete before they were on their way. 

"Look's like you've got someone waiting for you," Scarlet murmured to Chris was a small smile, nodding to the shape of Natalie out in the corridor, just visible through the glass in the door.

Chris turned his head and smiled lightly. "Yeah...this lecture better be over soon."

Once the session was over Tom dismissed them, nursing a coffee in his hands.

"Is rehearsal tonight?" Natalie asked poking her head through the door. 

Tom just nodded with a tired smile.

"Thank you," she chimed then turned to Chris as he walked out.

"Goodbye Sir," Chris nodded at Tom briefly, already smiling at Natalie. "Hi, good day?" he asked and they walked out of the room. "You're smiling alot."

"I got a first on my paper," she grinned, "so I have reason to. How was your lecture?"

"Long," he grinned. "But not that bad."

"Oh good," she smiled and nodded. "Lets go to the canteen, shall we?"

"How much time do you have?" Chris squeezed her shoulder lightly to stop her.

"We could go for the lunch in the city centre or something?"

"Sure," she nodded with a smile. "Sounds good. I only have to be back  
for the rehearsal."

"Great." Chris smiled in return. "Me too, after all. Italian, chinese?"

"Italian sounds good, there's a new pizza place," she said. "We should try it."

"Super, let's get some pizza then." Chris said. "Another thing we've got in common."

*

A few days later at the weekend they all went to the beach, Mark had even showed up but of course he came with a book to read. It was hot, pleasantly so; a warm breeze was drifting across the beach, tickling shirts and shorts.

"I'm going to get some drinks or something," Robert announced as he basked in the sun. "Anyone want anything?"

"Something cool, whatever it is." Evans asked, putting his surfboard down next to their blankets on the sand and took a towel to begin to dry himself.

"No problem. Blondie?" Robert turned to Chris, who had just returned from the surfing as well. 

"I'm good, thanks," he shook his head and sat down with a content sigh, his wet hair nice and cool against his sun kissed skin. "I love your waves," he grinned at Evans when Robert left and smiled subtly when Natalie, who was sitting next to him with sunglasses and small hat on her head, leaned her back against him.

Robert came prancing back moments later with two slushies in his hands, he presented one to Evans and then sat down himself; grinning.

"I don't like the look on your face." Jeremy pointed out shortly, making Mark look up from his book. 

"What?" 

"His face." Jeremy repeated with a set expression. "I don't like it." 

"I just caught sight of our favourite professor," Robert wiggled his eyebrows. "In rather tight tuning gear."

Natalie giggled and sat up straight. "Really, where?" 

"And why?" Scarlett rolled her eyes, but raised her head regardless. 

"Up by the bars, must be thirsty," Robert smirked at Evan's disapproving expression. "He looked like he's been running for a good long while."

"Ha, thought his figure couldn't be completely natural," Scarlett said.

Chris felt his stomach clench lightly and he shifted from under Natalie. "Might get a drink after all," he said and stood up. "The surfing's drained me."

 

"Get something for me too will you?" Jeremy asked, "I'm jealous of their slushies."

 

"Sure," Chris took his wallet and headed to the bar. 

 

He spotted Tom immediately. He was standing at the bar, his forearms rested on the desk as he was probably waiting for his order. The ginger curls of his hair were looking soft and perfect as always, though his hair was brushed back from his forehead, his hairline a little damp with sweat. He had one white headphone tucked into his ear, a small iPod attached to the waistband of his dark, _damn_ tight runnig shorts. Chris blinked and quickly looked up with a swallow. He felt his cheeks heat up a little and hoped it would look like it was just caused by the heat.

 

Chris took a deep breath and hesitantly walked over to the bar, hovering a safe distance away from his professor, so he could act like this was all a wonderful conincidence as he ordered one slushie and coke.

 

"Oh thank you," Tom nodded in gratitude when the bartender passed him a drink and downed half of the lemonade in one. He pushed back damp curls off of his forehead that had tumbled foreward and let out a sigh of relief, sipping a little more of his lemonade. 

 

Chris watched his Adam's apple bob as he was swallowing the cold drink with wide eyes, suddenly feeling his own throat go dry. Pushing back his hair, he took a step closer. "Mr Hiddleston," he faked his suprise as well as he could. "It's...strange to see you here."

"Oh hello Chris," Tom smiled. "Yes well, it's such a lovely day...you're all down at the beach I presume?"

"Yeah," Chris nodded; he couldn’t help but notice how Tom's breathing was almost steady again, but his cheeks were still very muh flushed. "We're doing a little surfing out there, just came for something to cool down."

"How wonderful," he downed the rest of his drink. "Well I hope you have a good day Chris, see you on Monday."

"You too sir." He nodded quickly, taking his ordered drinks. "Have a good run." 

*

"I will thank you," Tom smiled and then headed off again but he was less cheery than before. His mind was plagued with troubling thoughts.

Chris had been looking at him, like _looking_ in a way that student really should never be. And the worst thing was he didn't mind it at all, quite the opposite. Tom swallowed and shook his head, pushing it away. He focused on running, the hot sun on his back and the pathway in front. Nothing else no matter how much other thoughts prodded at his mind.


	6. Devastated

At the next rehearsal, Chris arrived with Natalie. They sat down on the edge of the stage, as did everyone else and waited as Benedict was preparing everything, then finally turned back to them.

"We'll start with the balcony scene again," Benedict looked at Chris and Natalie and raised his brows lightly. "That okay with you guys?"

"No problem." Chris said and Natalie nodded. He went to sit behind the box again as he had before, he already felt far less nervous; more relaxed and at ease with the language and lines. He could feel himself improving and that in itself was a comfort.

The scene ran smoother this time, the lines simply being delivered better and with far more confidence than before. Once they finished, Tom gave a thumbs up from where he was sat at the back and Benedict smiled. "That was great guys."

Chris grinned, finding himself finally enjoying this whole thing, especially when Ben, and Tom, were satisfied with him. He no longer regretted auditioning, but was glad he did; it was something.

They did some more scenes, Natalie and Chris having to flit in and out as they were often in separate ones. Ben seemed more excited this week as if he were just getting into it, eyes bright and cheeks puffed up constantly with a smile; it matched Tom’s, who appeared very much appeased from where he sat, making quick notes in between lines.

"Could we skip to the dying scene?" Chris asked playfully, once they finished another long one. "It would be fun," he grinned at Natalie, who obviously agreed with him. 

 

"No," Benedict said firmly, crossing arms over his chest. "That scene is very emotional, it's the climax of the whole play, I don't want you to try that until I know you are skilled enough not to ruin it completely. It won’t do anything for your confidence or performance if you try it now." 

 

Chris almost expected him to go on but instead the one corner of Ben’s mouth curled up into a smirk and he looked at them. 

"You could try the kiss scene, though."

"Okay..." Natalie agreed somewhat nervously.

"Great," Benedict said. "Let's set the stage..."

Chris rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes darting over to Tom at one moment before he nodded as well in agreement and hopped of the stage to take a sip of his water. He swallowed loudly, suddenly the nerves from his first audition were creeping back.

"Don't worry about playing yout part so much," Benedict told them as he pushed blocks around. "You just need to ensure that it looks natural for now and we'll work from that."

When the professor returned to focusing on the organising, Chris went to Natalie, putting one hand on her shoulder. "Hey um, I thought, maybe we could tell him to skip this part, if you'd want to, I mean," he suggested quietly.

"It's fine," Natalie assured him with a shrug. "We've got to get familiar with it, may as well start today."

"Okay, you're right," Chris nodded, finding himself to be slightly disappointed; he had hoped she’d want to skip it. His lack of enthusiasm was evidently clear on his worried features; he swallowed again.

 

"Chris, don't worry," she smiled at him lightly. "I've been in a play before. I know how to separate my life from the play. You're Romeo and I'm Juliet. That's it now." 

 

He smirked softly, relief washing through him. "Yes, that'll work."

"Just imagine I'm someone you really like," she told him. "Then it'll be natural."

 

"Are we good to start?" Benedict asked.

Chris resised the urge to look at Hiddleston again, only nodding instead. "Yeah, let's do this."

 

"Fine," Benedict clapped his hands. "Let's try it once, we'll see how it goes. Everybody, sit down and stay quiet, Natalie, we'll start with you," he said and took a seat in the first row as well.

Natalie spoke her words, something about loving Romeo and the moon; her expression perfect and words delivered with feeling.

Chris was answering her back, with equal passion, or at least he tried to, making a step toward her between every other line until they were standing close, Chris holding her hands as he was explaining to her how deep his love for her is. The words admitttedly sounded a little silly perhaps, but he tried to make them sound real; genuine. He looked up to meet her gaze directly and smiled.

Natalie smiled sweetly back like she really meant it, her eyes becoming glassy with fake tears; it appeared she could cry on cue. Chris had to fight to stay in character then, suddenly finding himself a little jealous; it was alright for some.

Chris swallowed, luckily for him, Romeo was supposed to be nervous as well, and cupped Natalie's cheek. She was looking at him with expectation, smiling brightly, and for a moment he regretted that it was only pretend. It would be so lovely, he thought, to have this; to have this being real with someone else. He found himself jealous of this fictional reality.

 

He leaned forward, and kissed her.

When they parted Natalie was smiling still, her hand lingering on Chris's arm. It was a warm touch, pleasant; it took him a moment to realise the hand was even there.

 

"Okay, cut!" Benedict said, "that was great, needs a little work but a good start guys."

"Wasn't that bad," Chris said, his tone almost shy. "Actually nice."

“Well good thing, we’ll probably end up doing it about a hundred times in the next few months,” Natalie smirked.

He flicked through the pages of his script, smiling subtly. "Guess we'll manage."

“I think somehow we’ll survive,” Natalie agreed, chuckling and then walked back down to take her seat.

"I think this could be one of the best plays we've ever made." Ben said to Tom in their break as he walked up to his friend to join him. "Those kids are great to work with."

"They are," Tom hummed. "They've got good chemistry."

"They're a good match." Benedict nodded. "All of them are brilliant. Kyle will need a bit more attention I think, but he'll get into it."

"I just hope we get to do it," Tom smiled weakly. "With such good potential."

"We can ask them to make their own costumes." Benedict sighed, thinking. "Perhaps save some money on the materials, or have rehearsals at my place, whatever, so we don't have to pay for the electricity and heat here."

"I'd offer but there really isn't space at my flat," Tom bit his lip. "Yes, with costumes though...that's a good idea."

"That's alright. You can buy the food instead, they’ll need to fuel," Benedict smiled.

"Alright," Tom smiled back. "Deal."

*  
In the past few weeks, Chris finally found himself enjoying the rainy weather whenever it came about. On every wet day he would rush to the bus stop, bundled up in a coat. And when the rain was especially bad, professor Hiddleston was there too. 

Chris hasn't dared to speak to him since the last time, he just stayed behind, watching him with quick glances in a not-so-creepy way, it was more just curiosity; sometimes he’d go through his papers, sometimes he'd be listening to his iPod and the rest of the time Hiddleston would just stare of out of the window, his expression whimsical. Unitentionally it became a private game, Chris would try and guess what he was listening to. Sometimes Tom would even mouth the lyrics, it was an endearing sight.

This time though, Tom was just looking through the window, a frown on his face. His phone was held nervously in his hand, the other hand running through his mussed hair every so often; his eyes wide with worry and his jaw set in a tense line. Every time his phone made a noise he half jumped and swallowed, reading the screen with a frantic gaze and replying with slightly shaky fingers.

Then he’d look out at the rain again, his phone gripped tightly; knuckles turned white.

He looked troubled, there was no doubt about it, but Chris wasn't sure what to do. He gripped the pole of the bus’s infrastructure tightly, thumb ghosting over the bell button but before he knew it he was up and making his way over.

"Mornin'..." He murmured with a small smile. "May I?"

"Oh, of course," Tom nodded, his usual cheeriness not present though he forced a weak smile in greeting; he was clearly tense. His movements were wooden.

Chris sat down a little awkwardly, rubbing his hands against his knees nervously. "I'm sorry, I-" he turned to the other, sighing. "Is something wrong..?"

Tom swallowed, as if contemplating. "Nothing you need to worry yourself with."

"Right...Just hope it ain't too serious." Chris said and sunk back to his seat.

"Don't know yet," Tom bit his lip, his free hand clenched in a fist on his thigh.

"Jesus, I'm sorry to hear that." Chris furrowed his brows. "Really, I had no idea..."

"No, really sorry I'm being-" Tom shook his head, "tis just my sister was caught in an accident."

Chris felt his gut wrench just at the thought. "You should've taken a day off," he bit back a sigh. "She'll be alright, surely, don't worry."

"No she's fine...she was just pregnant and-sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you all this," Tom said and glanced down at his phone, almost willing it to light up.

"God..." Chris breathed. "But hey, if there’s no message, that's a good sign, right? No message means there’s no urgent news, so nothing to worry about." He offered, a weak attempt of a smile on his lips. 

"Hopefully..." Tom sounded unconvinced but he appreciated the effort, he really did. "I'm sure everything will be okay..."

"You said it was your sister," Chris smiled. "Well I don't know you a lot, but I'm sure she's equally tough. And that in several months, you gonna be a great uncle."

Tom's features softened, "Well thank you Chris, that means a lot." 

"No problem." Chris nodded, glad he could be of help. It felt awful to be sat there, doing nothing.

Tom's phone didn't go off before the bus came to their stop so reluctantly he tucked it away into the back pocket of his jeans. "Thank you," he said again. "I'll see you at the lecture."

"Definitely." He said, the crooked smile present again. "And if I can give you an advice, try chocolate. Or tea or something."

"Tea," Tom chuckled lightly. "Tea sounds like a plan."

Chris grinned. "I knew you'd take it from that. And chocolate." He raised his brows. "As my granny and professor Lupin used to say, chocolate always makes you feel better." 

There was a distant call of his name and Chris turned at the sound to wave back at Robert, who was sitting on a bench next to the entrance of the university. "I gotta go." He apologised and walked away. Tom simply nodded in goodbye.

Robert clapped him on the shoulder smiling as always, "You good Chris?"

"Yeah, 'course, just a..." Chris shrugged it off. "How's it going?"

"Robot hand is coming on well," Robert grinned. "So you and Hiddles are what, friends now?" He teased.

"What? No," Chris snorted. "I just met him on the bus."

"Ah, I see," Robert nodded, almost disappointed. "You got a lecture now, huh?"

"Yep, so I can't stay. But we could hang around after that?" He suggested.

"Sure, see you at the canteen," then Robert winked. "Unless you're out with Natalie of course."

"Not today." Chris smirked and raised his hand in goodbye, then headed to his lecture.

He took his seat next to Scarlett, they exchanged a few words, but the rest of the time Chris spent in his thoughts. 

It was strange, he'd never been an especially empathic person, but now he genuinely cared about Tom's sister. He wanted her to be safe, the baby to be healthy. He never wanted to see Tom looking so devastated again. It looked and felt wrong.

Tom gave them back their previous assignments and started the lecture, though his usual zeal and enthusiasm wasn't quite there; his heart wasn't in it. It didn't last for long and he soon gave them work to do. An undrunk cup of tea and uneaten chocolate muffin remained on his desk neglected, his eyes gazing at the computer screen with little focus as they worked quietly.

He half jumped when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Chris's eyes shot up when the room was filled with a muffled sound from murmurs at the back and he looked at Tom just after his phone beeped, clenching the pen in his fingers.

Tom read the text quickly and he dropped his phone, most of the students didn't even notice when their professor left quite suddenly. 

 

"I wonder what's up," Scarlett frowned, keeping her voice soft.

Chris opened his mouth, but didn't say anything. He felt as himself go a little cold and barely moved, minutes past; he spoke up a considerable amount of time later."I- maybe someone should check up on him." He said quietly, hoping that Scarlett would solve his inner fight. He wanted to go see if the man was okay but he also didn’t want to be over stepping any boundaries, or make Tom feel uncomfortable or worse than he no doubt already did. He bit his lip.

"He did look a little flustered," she agreed. "I think you should."

He nodded, taking a deep breath. A few of the students were whispering to each other around the room, their tones curious and very much lacking in respect. Chris stood up, walked out of the room, closing the door behind him again.

Tom was lent against the wall of the corridor, his head in his hands but when the door closed behind Chris he glanced up; his eyes a little red. "C-chris?"

"I... didn't know what happened," he said quietly and walked closer to the other. "You left so quickly sir."

"Sorry I just-" He looked down and swallowed, "not good news."

"Shit..." Chris swore, biting his lip and ran a hand through his hair. "You may wanna sit down,"

"No, no I'm...okay," Tom shook his head. "You should go back in..." he glanced toward the lecture theatre.

"I've almost finished," Chris said, but then nodded. "But yeah, sure, I- I'll just.." He tilted his head the same direction and went back to the door.

"Tell them I'll be back in five, would you?" Tom said, his voice breaking a little.

"Is there something else I can do?" Chris asked with strangled voice, hand on the handle. "Anything?"

"No," Tom shook his head and glanced at him; there was true gratitude in his eyes. "But thank you."

Chris went back into the class, shaking his head subtly when his gaze locked with Scarlett’s. "He'll be back in a moment," he said only and went back to his seat. Scarlett looked at him, frowning, but she didn’t ask him anything and reluctantly turned back to her work. Chris noticed his hands were trembling slightly and quickly hid them under his desk. He felt so damn useless. So stupid. Which was of course ridiculous because he simply couldn’t possibly do anything, and therefore he felt even _more_ stupid the more he thought about it.

About ten minutes later Tom returned, his eyes perhaps a little raw but aside from that he appeared collected; he sat down at his desk without saying a word, seemingly occupied with an email.

Chris didn't pay attention for the rest of the class, Tom wouldn't have noticed today anyway, and when the hour finally passed, he remained in his seat until most of the students had left or were leaving.

"I'm really sorry," he said quietly, without looking at him. 

"What? Oh no I'm sorry you've gotten involved," Tom shook his head, his facade of 'okay' slowly slipping. "Please Chris, don't let me keep you."

"It's fine. I just mean that...I don't mind. That you told me, um..." He tripped over his own words and shrugged his bag up onto his shoulder. "Goodbye sir."

"Have a good day Chris," Tom nodded, his voice a little weak. He watched the boy go and then he stopped acting; Tom broke down.

Chris doubted he'd be able to have any kind of fun today. He called the meeting with Robert off with a quick text, spending the free afternoon just by sitting by the music block; the soft tunes seeping out of the walls melodic and claming.

 

Turned out, it wasn't the best of ideas, because it just made him feel even more sad and depressed; the soft lulling tunes gradually becoming grimer. He didn't even really know what had actually happened, but just knowing that it made Professor Hiddleston so upset as it did was enough to render Chris feeling a little hollow, empty. He just hoped the rehearsal that evening wouldn't be too taxing.

At rehearsal there was no sign of Tom, only Ben and another teacher called Martin; who had also appeared to help. Benedict apologised for Tom's absence and said things would go on as usual except that next rehearsal would not be taking place in the theatre to save funds.

Natalie and Chris couldn’t help but notice something was wrong with professor Cumberbatch, his words were slower and more carefully spoken; his tone oozing with sadness.

The rehearsal was fleeting and quick, Chris was thankfully in few scenes. He felt unfocused and clumsy, he certainly didn’t feel like pretending to be in love. Natalie clearly saw this and as they parted outside the theatre gates to head home she squeezed his hand, offering him a weak smile; Chris returned it feebly and they murmured goodbyes before breaking apart and heading home.


	7. Fencing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry christmas. x

Tom didn't go into work the next few days, Benedict even heard nothing from him, but on Thursday the rehearsal was still set to go out as planned at Ben's house regardless. 

They all, meaning Benedict and the cast, met as usual in the evening before the aula, and went from there to the bus station, taking a bus to the northern part of the city, where Chris hadn't been yet. The neighbourhood was well off for sure, every building towering and more like a mansion than a house. 

Benedict lead them into one of those almost-castles, tall and red bricked; the garden neat and minimalistic. 

"Here we are," He said as they all waked in. "And, please, don't break anything." 

They were sat down in the living room, Benedict asking the boys to move the furniture a bit to make some space, the sofas and tables were pushed up gently against the walls; he left them to work as he went to supposedly fetch snacks and beverages. 

"This house is awesome," Natalie murmured to Chris. "Huge, huge and awesome." 

"Very," Chris nodded, sitting on the pannelled floor next to a couch; gazing around still a little in awe. He felt better now, it's been a few days after all, and the events that had transpired felt a little less harrowing, plaguing his mind a little less. He was still worried about his professor, he couldn’t not be; he didn’t want to think about how it must feel; perhaps he was more worried than he should have been to, but he could hardly help that. 

The rehearsal felt a bit more relaxed this time, Ben's living room a softer setting than the theatre. It went without a glitch and Martin, who appeared later on to help, was friendly and encouraging, though unfortunately he didn't quite seem to know what he was talking about so he swore often and that made Natalie giggle. Chris smiled at that, it was a sweet sound. 

After one hour, Benedict announced a break, allowing them to go and take a look around in certain specified rooms for the purpose of stretching their legs. 

Chris went with Natalie, the girl darting on up immediatley to the second floor. Within minutes she’d found the library, her eyes bright and wide with delight as she darted through the small collection of packed bookcases. Chris wasn’t even surprised that Benedict had a library, it was so very him. 

"This is so cool," Natalie said excitedly. "I hope we get to do more rehearsals here...I wonder if he has any books on psychology." 

"I think there must be something from...everything," Chris breathed with a chuckle. "Never seen a collection like this before, not in someone’s actual house." 

"Must have taken years," Natalie murmured, reading a few of the book titles. "Some of these even look like first editions." 

"Book worm," Chris grinned, running his finger over the books on the shelf, his hand bobbing along with the movement. "Should we go back?" 

"Probably..." she sighed, "just a few more minutes." 

"Surely he would lend you some if you asked?" He smirked. 

"Maybe," Natalie said hopefully. "I'll see...shall we go back down?" 

"I don't know how long the break is," Chris nodded and walked out of the room following by Natalie, closing the door behind them carefully. 

"Perhaps we could get lunch together some time again?" Natalie suggested quietly. 

"Sure," Chris smiled, descending the stairs and they returned to the living room. "Counting on it." 

Most of the people were already back there, chatting and listening to what Benedict was saying. Chris took a free spot on the edge of the couch and reached for a handful of crisps as well; they tasted peppery and made his tongue burn. 

The rehearsal was stopped short and Benedict was obviously a little relived to see them go, after having to protect his CD collection many times as well as the violin in the corner. 

Chris walked Natalie to her bus stop. 

"So I'll see you at school tomorrow," He turned to her when the bus was approaching. 

"See you," she agreed and bit her lip as if deliberating. Her bus stopped and just before she got on she kissed Chris's cheek. 

It made Chris smile and he waited till her bus had departed, then shoved hands into his pockets and headed home as well. 

* 

The next Thursday was sunny and bright so Tom of course ran in to campus that day, the exercise helped clear his head. Or at least he hoped it would. 

He'd spent the last few days with his sister and her husband but he was home now, they were relatively recovered; it was the sort of thing that would heal in time. He also couldn’t leave his class without him any longer, the exams at the end of the year were looming over them and he couldn’t bare the thought of letting them down. 

* 

Chris's heart jumped in his chest when he saw his professor on the campus again, not just because it meant he must've been feeling at least a bit better, but also because- as much as the thought was strange and inappropriate- he had missed him. Chris shook head to himself and tried to push such thoughts to the back of his mind. 

Kenneth wasn't a bad or mean professor, not in the slightest; his lecture about Lord Byron was one of the best they've had, but he wasn't Hiddleston, though he was still a good replacement. He wasn’t the same. 

Tom had changed out of his running gear and arrived in the lecture theatre right on time, his class looked happy to see him, which was a comfort. 

Soon he began the lecture and though he wasn't as lively as he usually was, he was focused to everyones’ relief. 

Chris tried his best to listen to everything he said and not get too distracted, writing down notes and keeping his gaze toward the front at all times; as the lecture was coming to an end, Chris found he was growing more and more nervous. There was probably nothing expected of him, but he couldn't help it. He still cared. He felt like he had to say something but....he had not idea what to say.When Tom had finished, wishing them all a good day, Chris quickly packed his things, having decided to leave the room in an instant. 

"Hey Chris!" Robert and Scarlet were outside in the corridor, "lunch?" 

"Well I-" he paused and shook his head. No, there was nothing else he should be doing. "Sure thing, I'm starving." 

"Awesome," Robert beamed and they began to walk along. 

"I'm so glad to have Hiddleston back," Scarlett said, "Branagh was good but I didn't much like the change." 

"I never thought you would have admitted that," Chris chuckled. "But yeah, you're right." 

"He was gone?" Robert said. 

"Personal reasons or something," Scarlett shrugged and they walked on in to the cafeteria. 

"Sounds serious." Robert hummed. "Or total bullshit." 

"What?" Chris frowned. 

"You know, some people say personal reasons and then they go on holiday," the smaller boy shrugged. 

"I don't think that's quite his style," Scarlett shook her head, "look, there are the others." Evans and Jeremy waved at them from their usual table. 

"Hello guys!" Evans sang. "How's your day going?" 

Jeremy rolled his eyes. "Just don't ask him the same thing. Else you'd trigger it all again." 

"What's made you so happy huh?" Robert smiled. 

"Well I-" Evans opened his mouth, but Jeremy was faster. 

"He got praised for his design and passed some exam and Gemma noticed him." 

"Gemma's the brunette right?" Robert said, "the one doing forensic science." 

Evans grinned. 

"Good for you," Scarlett smiled. "You deserve it." 

"Speaking of which..." Robert turned to Chris, resting his elbow on the desk and his head in his hand. "Natalie is really nice, huh?" 

Chris grinned, "You should know, you've known her longer." 

"Touché," Robert chuckled. 

"So are you two a thing now?" Jeremy asked. 

The blonde rubbed the back of his neck a little awkwardly. "I think it’s too early for that." 

"Fair enough," Robert was still grinning. "But soon...?" 

“Anything's possible.." Chris smiled subtly. 

Robert pouted at the lack of answer but said no more. 

"I heard you did rehearsal in Cumberbatch's house," Evans said. "What was it like?" 

"So cool," Chris said. "Absolutely huge, everything looked antique...and he had one room which was just purely a library." 

"One room?" Robert said, “sounds like him.” 

"I know." Chris laughed. "I wasn't even surprised." 

"So him," Evans smiled in agreement. "Good rehearsal?" 

"He said so." Chris shrugged. "Thinks me and Natalie are getting into it-" 

"I bet." Robert grinned 

Evans rolled his eyes fondly. 

"Oh look our favourite profess-wow. I think that's the first time I've ever seen Hiddleston not smiling," Robert admitted. 

"Yeah, he was like that for the whole lecture today," Scarlett said. 

Chris cast his eyes down, scratching the desk with one nail absentmindedly. 

"Must have been something bad then," Robert sighed. "That sucks...woah Benedict just glared at me. Oh dear." 

"He's here as well?" Chris asked and finally turned to look to their table. 

Benedict and Tom were sat at a table, Ben was talking and the other wasn't. Ben actually put a hand on Hiddleston's arm for moment in comfort and seemed to be pushing food toward him. Tom smiled weakly and began to eat. 

Chris sighed and turned back to his friends, but he wasn't listening much to what they were saying; he mostly just nodded or chuckled in sync with the others. He resolved to talk to Hiddleston today, feeling pained at doing nothing. He just hoped it was the right thing rather than blatantly stepping over boundaries. 

"You okay Chris?" Evans asked as they stood from the table. 

"Yeah fine," He nodded, taking his bag. "Just...I feel kinda sorry for him, you know?" He confessed, tilting his head to the Professors' table. 

"Don't worry about it, I'm sure he's fine," Robert squeezed his shoulder. 

"He doesn't look like fine," Chris pointed out. 

"He has Cumberbatch," Robert said with a grin. "He'll be okay." 

"Right..." Chris sighed quietly. "I guess that's true." Still, he didn’t feel convinced. 

* 

He doubted Tom would show up early for the rehearsal, especially when he didn't have to, but he still wanted to give it a try. Chris was sitting on the bench before the aula, legs laid across over it as well and playing a game on his phone to pass the time. 

Tom appeared shortly with a bag of wooden swords in his arms; clearly they would be focusing on the fight scenes this evening. His gaze was mainly focused on the ground as he walked, though he didn't look especially upset, he just also didn't look remotely cheery at all; which was so unusual for him it looked unnatural. Wrong. 

Chris looked up when he heard steps approaching and jumped up. "Can I carry something for you?" He asked without a greeting, the state of Tom’s appearnce making him frown subtly. 

"If you could get the door," Tom said, "that would be marvelous." 

"Sure," he smiled lightly and took the keys from him, opening the door. "Swords, huh? I wonder how many people I'll send to infirmary today." 

Tom chuckled lightly, "Hopefully we'll have no broken bones....thank you," he nodded and walked on through. 

"Oh you haven't seen me," Chris grinned, throwing his bag onto one of the chairs and followed Tom to the front. "Once I tried sword fighting with my brother, I was like...five, and I almost poked his eye out." 

"Well then don't aim for faces," Tom grinned, though a little weakly. 

"Will try my best," Chris promised. "By the way, do you know if we will have rehearsal at professor Cumberbatch's place again? It was pretty cool." 

"He does have a lovely house," Tom agreed. "Now and then, just to cut costs. Did you find his mini library?" 

"Mini?" Chris raised his brows in disbelief and sat on the edge of the stage. "I have mini library, this was..." He puffed his cheeks. "Natalie made a list of things she'd like to borrow." 

"Really?" Tom chuckled softly, "well I'm sure Ben would be more than happy as long as it's returned in one piece." 

"Cool, I'll tell her," Chris nodded in thanks. 

"You and Natalie get on well then?" Tom checked. 

"We're good," Chris nodded, looking at the tips of his shoes. "They sort of took me into their group, so..." 

"Well it's good," Tom said, "if you two build up a relationship." He finished, placing the last of the wooden swords on the stage. 

"I guess," Chris shrugged. "Mostly- I mean,even for the play." 

Tom admittedly wasn’t sure what to say to that, his brain had been slower since; as if his thoughts were distracted. His mind was somewhere else, that much was obvious. He just made a noise of agreement and smiled politely, shrugging his trenchcoat onto the back of a chair. 

Chris watched him wordlessly, swinging his legs like a nervous kid. He thought about what to say next, tried to think of something cheeky, funny to say to distract his professor from the obvious sad thoughts swimming in his mind, but couldn't think of anything. 

"May I?" He asked after a while, reaching for one of the swords and stood up to try some moves with it. 

"Of course," Tom smiled weakly. 

He tried to lunge into the air, then again, putting one hand behind his back as he'd seen in the movies. "Man, this feels weird," He chuckled. 

"Have you ever fenced before?" Tom asked, 

"Yes, when I was watching Scooby Doo, all that time ago..." He grinned. 

Tom smiled and hopped up on stage, "firstly, you need the right posture." 

Chris realised he’d swallowed when Tom took hold of the sword as well, and gently forced his fingers into a new positions. "And what should that be?" He asked, faking a brave smirk. 

"You need your back straighter," Tom gently touched his shoulder to bring him back and up. "One foot a little before the other, and your arms need to higher," he lightly guided Chris's elbows. 

Chris felt as if a lightning was sizzling through him at the light touches and he thanked God that he was wearing his long sleeved plaid shirt right now, so Tom couldn't see the goosebumps rising on his forearms. He did as Tom said, stepping to stand in the right pose. 

"There we are," Tom sounded a little happier, more distracted like this but in a good way; distracted from his thoughts. He went to stand before him and stood in a similiar position holding a sword of his own, "now try and lunge." 

"I will stab you," Chris chuckled lowly, but made the move anyway. 

Tom batted the sword away, "Good, try again and well, I would be impressed if you managed to stab me with a wooden sword." 

"I have hidden powers." Chris narrowed his eyes playfully. He repeated his lounge, aiming a little higher this time and when Tom raised his sword as well, he quickly tried to hit his stomach. 

"Very good," Tom only just hit him away that time. "Though of course, in the play all of your moves will be planned out. You just have to make it look like split second decisions." 

"I won't remember them that well anyway," Chris breathed, resting his hands on the pommel. "So it will hopefully be very authentic." 

"After doing it ten times or so I think it will be very much engraved in your mind," Tom assured him. "Muscle memory will help." 

"Where did you learn this?" Chris asked, putting the sword down so he could take his shirt off, feeling a little too warm, left just in his white tank. "I don't think they teach this in literature?" He smirked, wrapping the plaid round his waist and picked the sword again. 

Tom made sure to keep his eyes on Chris's face. 

"I used to go to a drama school myself," Tom said. "I learned this for a Shakespeare play actually." 

"Which one?" Chris stretched his arms. 

"Othello," Tom said, "though it was a while ago." 

"Looks like you two have a history." Chris smirked. "You and Shakespeare I mean." 

"We all have our passions," Tom shrugged. "I guess it just...sticks with me." 

Chris hummed in response, "I know what you mean...but passions are good." 

"Well, in context," Tom said. "But yes, they keep one alive. I think I was around your age when I just knew what I wanted, and well, I just went for it." 

Chris smiled subtly, casting his eyes downwards, his fair hair falling over his face. "No offence, but you don't look like someone who would go over dead bodies to get what he wants." He shrugged when he looked up again. 

"You don't have to hurt people to get what you want, you just have to understand that you deserve it," Tom said. "You should never be afraid of showing you care." 

Chris looked at him with slightly parted lips, question in his expression. 

He felt confused; Tom was talking as if he knew, or thought he knew something, since Chris himself wasn't sure what was happening. Yes, he dreamed about him, not just once. And yes, he was finding his English professor...not-repulsive. But that didn't mean anything, just a crush, in the worst and most inconvenient and consuming form.


	8. The Tempest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, hope the length of this chapter helps make up for it :)

Chris smiled subtly, casting his eyes downwards, his fair hair falling over his face. "No offence, but you don't look like someone who would go over dead bodies to get what he wants." He shrugged when he looked up again. 

"You don't have to hurt people to get what you want, you just have to understand that you deserve it," Tom said. "You should never be afraid of showing you care." 

Chris looked at him with slightly parted lips, question in his expression.   
He felt confused; Tom was talking as if he knew, or thought he knew something, since Chris himself wasn't sure what was happening. Yes, he dreamed about him, not just once. And yes, he was finding his English professor...not-repulsive. But that didn't mean anything, just a crush, in the worst and most inconvenient and consuming form.   
"Where are the others?" Chris muttered and sat down on the edge of the stage again, sliding the sword back in the bag with the rest.

Tom simply left his own on the edge of the stage,"They're just arriving..." Ben came in followed by a stream of students, Natalie at the front. She smiled at Chris. 

He nodded at her, returning the smile lightly, and turned to Tom. "Thanks for the lesson," He smirked, looking up over his shoulder.

"No problem," Tom assured him with a small smile of his own and then hopped down off the stage to go talk with Benedict, who greeted him with a warm expression, clapping a hand on the other’s shoulder and giving a light squeeze. "A smile? I'm glad to see that again."

"Yes well, I've been distracted..." Tom said a little sheepishly. "I brought the swords."

Benedict glanced over him to Chris, who was now talking with Natalie, but still smiled all the same. "Good distraction then. Swords? Brilliant, let's get to it then, we have a lot of work to do."

"You get them settled down," Tom said. "I just need to check over a few notes."

"No problem." Benedict nodded and as always got onto the stage, clapping his hands. "Alright, as the smarter of you must have already noticed, we'll be practising with swords today. If you're asking why, the answer is easy. We better start soon but the next rehearsal is at my place again and I quite like it being not broken or smashed to pieces. Well then," He looked down at the script in his hand and started to point at them. "I want Romeo, Paris..."

A lot of boys were brought up on stage, given swords and Ben and Tom went around setting rules to ensure that no one would get hurt and then...the practise began.

Chris was mostly just having fun with it, but when Tom was watching- and he noticed that he was- Chris tried to do it exactly how he had told him to, and better. Not to impress him, of course, he just didn’t want to look...he wanted to seem appreciative. 

Everyone else, who wasn’t going to use a sword, practised lines in the seats underneath with Tom moving through the groups to help, hopping on and off the stage just as he had many times before with ease.

"Good Chris," Ben smiled and walked on past him. 

"Thanks sir," Chris grinned, swiftly jumping to side when the other boy lunged toward him all of sudden.

Eventually they stopped practising with swords and went back to actually acting, almost everyone was called on stage and the ballroom scene was attempted.

"I don't think I'll manage fencing and dancing in one day," Chris murmured to Natalie, while professor Cumberbatch was saying something else to them; about the music and matching the beat. 

Natalie smiled, "Well I'm not sure we’ll have to...we may just be weaving through the dancers."

"Oh? Looks like being Romeo has it's perks," He joked, though let out an internal sigh of relief.

"They might make us learn anyway though," she whispered softly. "So I'd be careful..."

"Yeah, you should," Chris agreed. "I suck."

Natalie laughed, "Well I know nothing of proper dancing but I'm sure someone could teach us."

"Hiddleston taught me fencing," Chris shrugged. "Maybe he could help."

"He looks like the type, doesn't he?" she nodded. "We could ask."

"Sir?" Chris turned his head. "Mr Hiddleston, could we ask you for an advice?"

"Of course," Tom nodded, smiling at them both; though it didn’t reach his eyes.

“We’re not even sure if there’s a dancing scene for us, but still...” Chris shrugged evasively.

"You will be dancing a little yes," Tom nodded.

"Ah...we don't know how," Natalie said.

"Don't worry, we'll teach you."

"Oh, will you?" Chris asked, but it sounded incredibly hopeful and perhaps even a little flirty. He blushed furiously and quickly looked down. He didn’t even know where that had come from, why he’d said it; he swallowed. Hiddleston wouldn’t think anything of it, he’s so damn nice, it would fine. 

"Right okay, you two, hold hands," Tom said, seemingly oblivious to Chris’s discomfort.

Chris took Natalie's hand in his, putting his other hand on her waist.

“Good,” Tom gently moved their entwined hands up a little, and Chris’s hand a little lower. “Now who’s going to lead?”

Chris raised his brows at Natalie and chuckled. "Well, me, I guess."

"Just thought I'd ask, we mustn't stereotype gender roles after all," Tom said. "Now listen to the music, you must start to count to four in your head with the beat, continuously."

They both nodded and Tom gave signal to Benedict, who then pressed play on the CD player, classic historical tunes filled the theatre, the rhythm was smooth and fortunately not very fast paced. Chris tried to mirror Natalie's steps and copy the couples around them too but he was still clumsy; his steps a little uncoordinated. "Sorry- damn- I just-" he hissed with apologetic smile.

"It's fine, I'm wearing boots," she chuckled. "My feet are protected."

"Oh good." 

*  
Benedict eventually stopped them some time after, thanking for their work. "Next week we’re in the theatre too, we won’t meet up until then. Please try get some practise in for dancing or fencing if you have the time. Thanks again, have a good week, " He told them and smiled lightly.

"Okay," Natalie nodded and looked to Chris. Maybe we should practise..."

"Next time, we can still work on some dancing too," Benedict assured them as he dropped down off of the stage.

“Right, thanks professor.”

Chris found himself thinking of the minutes before the rehearsal as he disentangled his headphones on the way home. The whole thing just kept on replaying in his head and every time he felt stupid and embarrassed; he was reading far too much into what professor Hiddleston had been saying. He was his professor, that was all and it was supposed to stay that way.

*  
"You alright dear?" his mother asked as Chris walked into the kitchen that evening, "good day?"

"I missed the chance to pierce my professor with wooden sword, and stepped on Juliet's foot." Chris grinned a little weakly, tossing his bag aside and sat down at the table. "It was cool.”

"Swords? Oh do be careful after last time," she smiled fondly. "There's leftovers if you're hungry." 

"I'm starving." Chris hummed and went to pluck the plate from the oven, the food having been kept warm. "Dad ain't home yet?" he presumed, grabbing himself some cutlery.

"Oh he is, he’s the living room," his mother said. "I think some detective drama is on."

"God," Chris rolled his eyes. "Those deeply intellectual things of his?" 

"They're not intellectual," she rolled her eyes fondly in response. "You just have to pay attention."

"Whatever." He shrugged and stood up, pulling his bag over one shoulder and picking up the plate with his other hand. "Can I take it upstairs? I have some work to do."

"Just don't spill any," she nodded. "Good night Chris."

He smiled and walked up the stairs, closing the door behind him. He could hear Luke's music through the wall, it was something terrible he had admittedly had liked at that age, so he started his own computer up and put some CD on to counteract the bad noise. He kicked off his shoes and let out a content sigh as he slumped down onto his bed.   
He ate his dinner in bed, whilst checking his favourite websites, and then their school page, just in case there were some announcements or anything he needed to be concerned about.   
Soon after, not even knowing why or how, he was browsing the gallery of photos from the previous plays they’d put on. He found himself lingering on one of the production shots, professor Hiddleston was at the front with his arms thrown in a wide gesture to direct the students who appeared to be listening intently. Chris shook his head to himself and tore his gaze away from the bright smile and shut his laptop. Fortunately by then Luke’s music had died down. He had to force himself to go to sleep.

*

Tom got home feeling solemn and that night he didn't really sleep, his mind plagued with his thoughts he couldn’t even acknowledge himself. He drifted off once but soon woke again, this pattern repeated itself continuously. Eventually Tom gave trying to sleep and went to make himself coffee, the dim morning light filling his flat.   
He had decided to run in the next day which was a slight mistake, by the time he arrived he was exhausted; the run and lack of sleep combined tiring him. He bought a coffee on his way in, in fact he bought two; he downed one immediately and then took the second to his lecture.

Chris was late. It wasn't new, or anything especially bad but he had liked getting there early or at least on time; Chris liked to think it showed he cared. Which, of course, he did.. He opened the doors in a flurry, hair tumbling down over his face; his bag hung off one shoulder. "Sorry, I-" he panted. "I overslept." He apologised and went to take his seat, it wasn’t true though but he was hardly going to tell his professor he’d been too busy chatting with Natalie before hand and had lost track of time. 

"Is that...lip balm on your cheek?" Scarlett smirked. 

"Shut up," he grinned, hurriedly wiping it off with the back of his hand. 

Hiddleston set them off with work straight away, which was unusual though the reason was obvious; the professor looked exhausted, drained. He clearly had no energy to give a lecture today and going by how miserable he looked, it seemed he felt guilty about it too.

Chris looked up from his paper at one point and smirked softly, seeing his professor with one hand supporting his head and sleepy eyes, looking blindly on the computer screen. He wondered what could've kept him so restless, it was an odd but refreshing thought to think of their saint-like professor doing anything especially reckless. He found it hard to focus on his work, thinking of the rest of his morning; he and Natalie got on well, very well. But they mostly talked and that was...all really. He knew he should at least stop thinking about his professor so much before they, perhaps, became any more serious; Chris wasn’t even sure if he wanted to become more serious. At the moment he wasn’t sure about much, just confused was how he felt; especially during lectures, or rehearsals, or at night, or basically whenever he thought about-

"You going to meet the others for lunch?" Scarlett asked, dragging him out of his thoughts. It seemed the others were packing up, many had already left; the lesson had ended and he hadn’t even noticed.

"Are they going somewhere nice?" He asked.

"Some bagel place," she said. "Wanna join?"

"I guess," Chris nodded. "Always glad to get to know new places." His smile was small but genuine.

"Great, let’s just go find Evans," she said and lead them into the art department.  
Evans was just walking out of his lecture, a few papers being held in between his teeth as he was putting them all in a folder one by one which he held open precariously with one hand. "Uh, hi," he grinned, voice muffled by the contents of his mouth.

Chris smirked, taking the papers from him so he could hold them out, allowing Evans to take them one by one. "We were just heading out to lunch." He said and handed the last one back.

 

"Bagels?"

 

"Bagels," Scarlett confirmed, smirking softly. 

"Let's go then," Evans smiled and they headed out.

 

* 

 

The bagel shop smelled heavenly; Robert and Jeremy already there when they arrived. "Hello people," Robert smiled. "How is everything. How is life?"

"Amazing, though my flat mate's pain," Evans rolled his eyes with a grin and sat down next to him, Scarlett and Chris taking the opposite seats.

"You’ve been living with me for so long now, one'd think you'd be used to it," Robert beamed.

"Can he ever really be?" Scarlett raised a brow.

"It's not even funny," Evans told Chris and leaned closer to them both. "I had a dream the robotic hand was trying to choke me in my sleep yesterday."

Chris laughed. "That sounds terrible, mate."

"Better than my dreams-"

"We don't want to hear about your dreams Downey," Scarlett smirked. "Not while we’re eating for sure."

"I'm afraid I can imagine..." Jeremy shuddered and Robert gave him a wink.

"So you go to this place often?" Chris changed the subject, noticing the slightly irritated look Evans was currently attempting to pierce Robert with.

"Too often probably," Jeremy said. "But the bagels are just so good!" 

"That's a good enough reason." Scarlett said and handed Chris the menu.

"Just don't get the goats cheese one," Robert murmured, pulling a face. 

"So how are the rehearsals going anyway?" Evans asked while Chris was scanning through the list of bagels. 

"Oh it's fine," Chris looked up with a small smile. "Tried fencing the last time, that was cool."

"But not with real swords?"

 

"Obviously not Downey," Scarlett sighed.

"Wooden." Chris nodded. "Better than dancing though."

"Why? You danced with Natalie, didn't you?"

"Well yeah," he said. "But I managed to step on her feet several times."

"How romantic," Scarlett smiled.

"But you didn't kill anyone fencing?" Robert asked.

"Of course not." Chris grinned. "I'm not _that_ clumsy."

"It would be pretty awesome," Jeremy said. "To be able to fence properly."

"Ask Hiddleston." Chris shrugged and put the menu aside. "He taught me."

"Sounds fun," Robert smirked. 

"Could you, like...at least for a day?" Evans sighed. “Just stop making crude remarks about teachers...”

"It's fine," Chris smiled lightly. "I won't tell him anything else anyway"

"Meanie," Robert pouted.

"I'm not," Chris stated, "but I gotta keep some things to myself."

"Careful," Evans smiled ruefully. "Saying stuff like that will get him excited."

*  
By the end of November, the weather was getting colder and colder and Chris was returning home from the rehearsals far after twilight. His mother didn't like it, but she respected it, and when his father came from the work earlier, she got him to pick Chris up.

This week, the rehearsal was at Cumberbatch's place again. They were all sat in his living room, while he and Hiddleston were discussing something shortly in the kitchen. Natalie was nibbling on the fancy flavoured crisps whilst Chris sat beside her, listening to some story about one of her professors and the vending machine.

Chris noticed that both of the professors looked quite smiley today as they walked back through, and was pretty sure they had some news for them, probably about the costumes or something.

"Alright everyone we have some news," Ben said and they quietened down.

"Professor Branagh has kindly bought us tickets to see _the Tempest_ ," Tom explained.

And then Ben added with a smile, "at the Globe in London."

"Oh wow!" The kids beamed. 

"That's just amazing!"

Chris exchanged an excited smile with Natalie. “I thought we were running low on money?” She murmured.

He shrugged, “perhaps Branagh feels bad for being a bit tight at the start.

"But now we really must get back to rehearsing..." Ben said, "now everyone, scene 3, act 2, positions!"

"It will be so incredible," Natalie smiled at him wildly as they were turning to the page in their script. "The Globe, it's like the closest you can get to the original Shakespeare plays performances."

Chris smirked and looked up at Tom, who was chatting with Benedict with a smile just a few steps away. "Yeah. Must be."

*  
That night Tom couldn't sleep again, so he resolved to go out; _out_ out. He didn't have work the next day and he couldn't stand lying awake doing nothing, completely consumed by his thoughts. He needed alcohol and music and distraction, something he hadn't had in a long time. Him and Benedict would go out now and then but they had little time to spare. It had been too long and Tom decided to indulge himself.

He changed into skinny jeans and a more casual shirt, shrugged on his leather jacket and scarf and then headed out; turning the collar up against the wind.

Tom didn't really know where he was going until he was standing in front of one of the clubs in the centre, 'three floors of music, beverages and fun'. He didn't really care where he was, and pulled out his wallet to pay for a drink as he walked in; letting out a sigh of relief. The music was so loud Tom could barely think. 

*  
Robert dragged Chris in and Evans followed them on with a fond smirk, "Did we have to come here, Downey?"

"Of course!"

Chris sighed, giving Evans a sympathetic smile. "So is this like the best thing here?"

"Its pretty cool," Evans nodded. "Good music, usually good company."

"Quite loud!" Chris called over the beats of music as they entered, putting their jackets in the small cloakroom.

"Yeah, but awesome!" Robert grinned, waving them over. "This way, the second floor is even better!" 

"Basically he wants to see the dancefloor!" Evans explained as they walked up.

"That's okay," Chris assured him, smiling.

Once on the top floor Robert headed straight to the bar, "What do you guys want?"

"Rum with coke for me," Evans said and strode away, spotting a free booth in the corner and claiming it.

"I'm fine with that too." Chris nodded as well and headed over to the other Chris. "This place is crazy!" He exclaimed as he sat down opposite Evans, looking around.

"What?"

He leaned forward and repeated it, shouting almost. "I said, there's so many people!"

"It's always like this," Evans shrugged. "If you need a break or a distraction, or just to cool off; this is the place to be."

Robert returned with three drinks in hand, they all took their glasses and drank rather generous sips, Robert drinking almost half of it in one go, then nonoticed Chris's raised brows and shrugged. "I came here with an intention and I plan to fulfill it."

"Okay," Evans nodded, bringing the glass to his lips again, mirroring Robert. "I'm not carrying you home though," he added. "Not like last time."

"Well hopefully if all goes according to plan," Robert said. "I won't be going home tonight. I'm gunna go dance," he announced, downed the rest of his drink. 

"You'll fulfill it pretty quickly like this..." Chris chuckled.

"Shut up, Dundee, this is a kid's drink. Come on, don't stay behind," Robert encouraged him.

"Fine," Chris sighed and downed his glass.

"You're such a bad influence," Evans sighed fondly. 

"Right, I'm going to go dance...then I will buy a new round, unless someone else could be so kind?" Robert said.

"I will..." Evans conceded. 

Chris smiled sympathetically at him and relaxed in his seat. When Evans returned with another round, he excused himself to bathroom. 

"You have to go down one floor," Evans pointed to the stairs. "and then left, behind the bar there." 

"Sure, thanks mate," he patted his shoulder and walked away. He made his way down the spiral staircase, passing by and knocking into many of the people standing there and also the occasional couples making out. This part of the club wasn’t so nice, a little dirtier and well, he found himself hurrying to the bathroom. He went down quickly, finding the toilets with ease to his relief.

*

Tom was on his third...it was sweet and tangy and made him feel sleepy, he appreciated that. He wanted to go dance but then he didn't want to deal with people; he certainly didn't want to go home with anyone tonight. He would thoroughly regret that in the morning.   
He finished his drink and went to get another one, he walked just fine but his mind was feeling a little woozy; he would have to go home pretty soon. To guarantee that he would get home.

*

Chris couldn't see Evans anywhere when he returned, finding their booth occupied by a group of teenagers. Robert was swinging on the dance floor, and Chris really didn't feel like joining him at that point. Their drinks appeared to have all been drunk too, so he went to the bar, ordering himself another one.

Robert soon found himself a dance partner, sending a thumbs up at Chris when they were looking away. 

He waved at Robert in return, grinning, then noticed a familiar head of ginger curls in the crowd. He straightened up to see better, his brows raising when he realised he wasn't just seeing things.

"Thank you," Tom smiled politely and took his drink; then he let out an involuntary sigh when he glanced at his watch and realised just how late it was getting.

Chris was watching him wordlessly, not even daring to move as if Tom might see him just from the corner of his eye. He used the moment to appreciate how good the black leather jacket looked, with the scarf hanging loosely around his neck. Chris swallowed. 

Tom didn’t turn around, though he glanced sideways at wonderfully dogey guy next to him and moved away from the bar.

Chris quickly downed his drink, coughing lightly when a bit went down the wrong way, licking his lips. Tom was getting away already, and there was the familiar feeling of the urge to do something before it's too late bubbling up within Chris, but he didn't know what to do. Though he knew what he wished he could do. They were in a club, and Tom was still his professor, and if it were anyone else, it would be so weird to talk outside school. However, this was Tom-Hiddleston. He couldn’t not talk to him. 

Chris made a step forward, and suddenly he was walking after Tom, and then he lightly nudged his shoulder, as if by accident. He felt a little manipulative and childish doing so, but he couldn’t think of any other way of initiating it. 

Tom turned when he felt someone brush past him. Part of him was relieved to see Chris rather than the odd man from the bar but still he was panicked in another sense; in a way he didn't really understand.

"Oh Chris," he greeted and grimaced at how drunk he must have sounded. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Seems like bumping into each other is starting to be our thing," Chris chuckled, speaking loud enough for Tom to hear. 

Tom laughed softly, "indeed, well, have a good evening Chris."

"Are you feeling alright sir?" Chris chuckled lowly raising a subtle brow, his shoulders a little tense. 

"Yes, fine, just can't sleep," _because of you_ Tom thought, _partly my sister but mostly you_. He swallowed, "I'll see you on Monday Chris."

Chris smirked softly at him, nodding. "Definitely. Hope you have good night tonight, sir." He said, taking a step back and almost reluctantly keeping the comment about how good he looked in that leather jacket to himself. 

"Good night," Tom nodded with a small smile and then walked on. 

"You have got to be kidding." Evans appeared beside Chris. "Was that...?" 

"Hm? Yeah, Hiddleston." Chris tuned to him. "Looks like we all needed a night off."

Evans chuckled lightly, "speaking of that, we've lost Robert." 

**

 

Chris hasn't spoken with Hiddleston properly since the night in the club; meeting in there at an awfully late hour and chatting, practically flirting in a sense. It appeared they were pretending it had never happened, it was hardly a big deal but it still made Chris feel a little low. It wasn’t quite like being rejected, but it felt like something akin to that.   
He knew what he wanted was crossing a line, and it's not like he wasn’t aware of that or that it didn’t worry him, he was and it did. Chris found himself split in half; one half wanted to do go for it and damn the consequences, the other was telling him to drop it, drop it and move on. Problem was moving had clearly become a difficulty. And Chris was nearly through with fighting battles he couldn’t win. 

It was half way through December now, the wintery weather was already settling in, in Brighton, as well as where they were currently, in London.

Natalie nuzzled into his side, ripping him off his thoughts. He smiled, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders to make her feel warmer. 

"Come on!" Benedict led them through the crowds, the river Thames gleaming beside them in the bright daylight. "Almost there."

London was nothing like what he’d seen in the movies. It was so much better in reality. Chris wasn't quite sure what it was, but the capital city had a certain sort of atmosphere, and he loved it.

Benedict led them further along; he and Tom were at the front, discussing something. They didn't even have any maps, probably knew the city well enough not to get lost; Chris almost envied them.

Soon they were lead into a glass building, 'Shakespeare's globe' written in bold letters atop of the door and then into a courtyard where the globe stage itself stood. Everyone made noises of excitement as they were lead through the doors to the standing audience before the stage.

"This is so amazing," Natalie beamed. "I've been to London with my parents a few times, but we never went here."

Chris was looking around, wide eyed like everybody else, and smiled. "It's better than I thought it would be."

Ben ushered them into appropriate places, the theatre empty for the time being. Tom looked excited, in pure ecstasy; like he just belong there.

Chris mused why it was Benedict, who was just telling them something about the history of the theatre, it's architecture and so on, and not Tom. Then he realised, the other wouldn't probably be capable of words in his current state, as he was looking absolutely blissful. He smirked softly at that and tried to focus on the historic tales Ben was telling them. Tried being the operative word. 

When Benedict finished, he gave them fifteen minutes to go around by themselves and explore, adding in a not-so-subtle warning about behaving themselves accordingly.

Natalie tugged on Chris's sleeve. "Would you mind if I went with Carol and Sarah for a while?" She smiled lightly at him and she turned her head to the two girls from the cast. 

 

Chris shook his head. "I'm good, you can go, of course. I’ll be fine."

Tom had ventured up onto the top row of seats to get the best view of the theatre and stage, his expression still utterly content. He smiled and took a seat at the front, leaning against the banister with his head resting on his arms. 

When Natalie left, walking away with her friends, Chris looked around the theatre again, noticing Tom was already up on the balcony. He looked dreamy. In all meanings of that word.  
Chris looked away with a tender smile threatening to curve onto his lips and went to take his seat up there as well.

Chris was about to sit in one of the only seats left, when Kyle sat down on it. "Sorry pal," he grinned. "But I ain't sitting next to the professors." 

Chris just waved his hand in assurance, but swallowed as he walked over. Sitting next to Cumberbatch, or worse, next to Hiddleston for three hours wasn't exactly ideal; he wanted to be able to concentrate of the play. Cumberbatch wasn’t even there yet, which Chris found himself grateful for. "Um, sir," he greeted with a mumble and took the seat next to Hiddleston, subconsciously sitting on the half of it furthest from his professor. His chest swelled as if he were nervous.

"Oh," Tom was torn out of his day dream. "Hello Chris, looking forward to it?"

"Yeah," Chris breathed. "It will be great, no doubt."

"Of course," Tom smiled. "It will be fantastic."

"You must have seen it a dozen times already." Chris chuckled lightly, glad the conversation was easy enough.

"Only about five times actually," Tom smirked weakly. 

"Oh," Chris grinned. "Then it's basically as new for you as it is for me."

Tom laughed softly, "have you ever seen the Tempest?"

"Unfortunately no," Chris shrugged. "Maybe that's good a thing, as I can enjoy it for the first time now."

"This is the best way to see it for the first time," Tom hummed. "After all, it was written to be shown here."

"Yes, true. Well I think that-"

"All done." Benedict appeared behind them and took a seat the next to Tom’s left. "I think I managed to get them all in their seats on time, should be starting in any minute."

"Oh good," other people were milling around now, taking their own seats. "What were you saying Chris?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing, just that it's great to see it with you all for the first time." The blonde said and sunk in back his seat, shoving hands into the pockets of his winter jacket, burying his face under the collar up to his nose.

Tom just smiled and the crowd began to go quiet as the play was starting.

When the actors appeared on the stage, Chris ‘un-huddled’ himself and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the bannister so he could see better.

The acting was wonderful, lines spoken beautifully; Tom couldn't have been happier. His hands were gripping the edges of his seat tightly in anticipation.

Chris was glancing at the professors from every now and then, always smiling subtly when he saw their enthusiasm. The play was nice, the actors good and he quite liked the story, so much he was kind of disappointed when they announced interval.

"It's great!" Chris smiled with new enthusiasm, straightening up onhis seat when the others started to leave slowly. 

"Isn't it just?" Tom agreed.

"I have seen a better Prospero," Benedict said. "But it is wonderful."

"Well I haven't," Chris’s smile didn’t falter and he shrugged.

Ben talked a little more about the play's dynamics, what he liked and thought could have been better until the interval ended and everyone steadily quietened down again just as Prospero and Ariel walked back on stage.

Chris leaned back against the bannister watching the two of them talk. After a moment, he could hear Benedict's quiet chuckle just as Ariel, a young boy in strange, feathery costume came to the stage and started to do...was that dancing?

Other fairy like creatures began to dance around him and an eery music played as they chanted, the words low and gentle but chilling all the same. They created large creatures with bits of bone they each held and began to make them travel around the scene. Overall it was actually rather creepy, Ariel's expression set as he sang.

Chris pulled back slightly, the scene making him feel just a little uncomfortable. He straightened up slightly again, then leaned to his left, frowning lightly in confusion and reached out to touch Hiddleston's hand to ask for explanation of what was happening before him.

Tom jumped lightly at the touch, a pleasant jolt running up his arm and he had to stop his eyes from widening. He turned his head subtly, "you alright?" He whispered.

"Yeah, I just-" Chris stopped. He tore his eyes off the stage and turned his head. He was touching him though only just with the tips of his fingers, the pads of skin brushing lightly against the back of Tom's hand, but there was something about... _fuck_. Quickly he withdrew his hand, putting it inside his jacket pocket. He sat back to his seat, eyes pinned to the stage, expression set. "Nothing," he murmured; hand feeling as if it were burning a hole through his coat.

Tom swallowed, he could barely focus on the play, his hand felt like it was alight. What the hell was this? This had never happened before...nothing like this had ever happened, not to Tom. Chris had lingered, his fingertips resting against the back of his hand for the briefest and Chris probably hadn't even realised he was doing it it. Tom just pushed his thoughts away, or tired to, and attempted to focus on the play. 

"Tom? You okay?"

Tom's head snapped round to see Benedict, "yes, yes of course. It was amazing."

The students were ushered outside, told they could go get food and had to be back at the station in two hours. 

They were standing outside the theatre, Chris leaned against the wall, when Natalie asked him to go with her and some others to grab a lunch in a bistro nearby. He thought it just as well, at least he could be distracted by their conversation.

Of course, there wasn't anything to really be distracted from; he just accidentally touched his professor's hand, that was it. But Chris knew that wasn't what was troubling him. It was what he had felt when their hands brushed against one another, it was something-

"You alright Chris?" Natalie asked, "you look a bit pale."

"I'm okay." He squeezed her arm lightly, if anything seeking comfort for himself. "Just wasn't expecting that creepy dance."

"Oh, fair enough," Natalie nodded. "Hey Chris? Let's go eat in there," she nodded to some café. The others walking on past them.

"Yeah." Chris followed her in, the gorgeous smell of coffee hitting his nostrils the very second he did. "This place looks nice," he offered

"It will do," she stated, apparently just wanting to get away from the others. "You order coffee, I'll get seats."

"Okay..." Chris looked at her a little suspiciously but went to stand in the queue. He mused what kind of coffee to get, then he decided there was no way he could go wrong with cappuccinos and ordered two. "Here you go," he smiled and sat down opposite her into a comfortable, squishy armchair, taking his jacket off after placing down the drinks.

"Thank you," she nursed the coffee in her hands. "Chris, I like you and I think we're good friends but...I have to ask. You like someone else, don't you?"

The question left him a little startled. He really wasn't expecting it and it took him a second to think of an answer. He shook his head eventually. "I thought that we were like, you know.."

"Chris," she smiled lightly. "Please be honest with me." 

He sighed and looked from the window for a moment, before he met her hazel eyes again. "Nat, I really like you, you're great...but I- I wouldn't call it liking, it's more just a crush."

"So you have a crush on someone else?" She clarified. 

"But it has no future," Chris shook his head quickly. "Just...it'll pass." he assured her, even though he himself had doubts about that.

"It's been going for more than a month," she said gently, "you sure it's just a crush?"

"How'd you know?" Chris asked. The thought of someone noticing was unnerving, especially because it could potentially make other suspicious and get him into trouble, and for nothing.

"We're good friends Chris, I act with you; I know you," she said. "I want you to be honest with me, if you're upset I want to help."

"You're too nice," He sighed, because it was the truth. "I don't think you can help, just don't tell anyone."

"Okay," she nodded, "I won't. I promise, but let's just be friends okay? Until you work this out. I don't want things to get complicated and end up losing you as a friend altogether." 

"I get it." He nodded and looked down. "Sorry."

"Chris, we held hands a bit, no offence but I'm not broken hearted," she sipped some of her coffee. "But just know that I'm here for you, as a friend. Always."

He looked at her with a smirk and put a hand on his chest. "That could hurt one's ego. But thanks, I appreciate that."

She cocked her head, "is it a guy or a girl?"

He laughed, a little nervously, leaning back against the chair. "Seriously?" Chris breathed, running his fingers through his hair.

"Fine, don't tell," she smirked behind her cup.

Chris looked around as if someone was listening to them and rested his elbows on the table. "Do I look gay?"

“No one _looks gay_ , you can look camp," she said. "But no, you don't."

"No, I meant- I was kinda dating you, no?" Chris explained. 

"I just thought you might be bi, that's all," she shrugged. ”And I guess, we kind of just hovering between friend and dating; I’m not sure what it was...it was nice, I mean but really; I’m just glad to have you as a friend.”

He hummed, looking at his hands at the table. "Yeah maybe, I guess I might be."

"You don't have to know the answer Chris," she said and finished her coffee. "Come on, let's head back."

"Pity we can't stay in London longer," Chris murmured, downing the rest of his cup as well before they headed out, walking next to each other without holding hands; though their arms still brushed. 

She nudged him with her elbow, "Us guys could all come here on the train sometime, for the day."

"That would be fun." He agreed. "I always wanted to see Big Ben and all those other things."

"We should for sure," she smiled. "Maybe for new year."

Some of the students were already back at the station and so were the professors, Chris intentionally held back in their small crowd to avoid getting anywhere near the professors as they moved; he avoided Hiddleston skillfully the whole back. He could barely even look at him and found his cheeks hotting up when he stole a glance. 

When he got home and his mother asked him how the place was Chris realised he could hardly remember, his hand just buzzed with some sort of energy; the same moment just relayed constantly in his head. His fingertips gracing against the back of his professor’s hand, it was such a minor thing yet still he couldn’t quite comprehend it, or rather he didn’t want to. 

He couldn’t quite face it. 

But whatever he felt for Professor Hiddleston it was beyond a crush, that’s for sure. As he went to sleep, Chris didn’t let himself think about that meant.


	9. Drunk

"Right, you need to have finished your essays by the time we get back," Tom said to the class. "They should be at least ten thousand words minimum. And if you have any questions you can just email me, don’t be afraid to ask anything if you’re unsure."

It was the last Thursday before the Christmas holidays, and most people had already left campus, or at least their thoughts had; everyone was distracted. The whimsical nature of Christmas easing everyones minds, it was clear every student was looking forward to having a break. Chris, as well as Scarlett, was clad in a scarf made of tinsil, something Downey had kindly burdened them with on their way to their lecture. Chris found it especially hard to focus this lecture, and it wasn’t just Christmas. Soon enough Scarlett was nudging him and the lecture was over, Tom wishing them a merry Christmas as the other students were already walking out.

"They'll have a christmas dinner at the canteen today," Scarlett smiled. "It's always good."

"What does that involve exactly?" Chris chuckled, pulling his rucksack up over one shoulder.

"Roast dinner, stuffing," she shrugged. "It's hearty and nice, all...Christmassy and stuff."

"Sounds great," Chris smiled, keeping eye contact with her the whole time, especially when they were passing by Tom's desk; however much he wanted to look he didn’t allow himself to. Christmas holidays were exactly what he needed now; several days without school when he could be going out and hang out with friends and finally get over this silly crush.

"It is, especially the pudding," Scarlett smirked.

"I'm not one for fruit in pudding," Chris shrugged.

*

Later on in the day, after a rather indulgent lunch, Chris headed to their last rehearsal before Christmas; the inside of the theatre looked warm and inviting with an orange glow gleaming through the windows. He sped up his pace, eager to get into the warmth. With a grateful sigh he heaved open the doors and trudged in.

Natalie waved to him and walked over, "you alright Chris?"

"Fine, just cold" He smiled reassuringly. "So what's going on here?"

"A few scenes and then some games," she smiled back. "Nothing too embarrassing hopefully..."

"They wouldn't do that to us," Chir winked at her and they went to take seats at the front, just as Benedict and Tom hopped up the stage to start talking.

"Right, we'd just like to do the first half of scene two," Tom said.

"And then," Ben continued. "We'll have a nice old fashioned game of hide and seek."

"...Or maybe I was wrong." Chris whispered to Natalie with a subtle smirk, while the others were making a mix of enthusiastic and disapproving sounds.

"Calm down guys," Benedict chuckled at that. "It's not as bad as it sounds, I promise. Now, let's get this done, the stage is yours."

The scenes were gone through quickly and smoothly and soon the games had begun. Natalie volunteered to be the first to count, so everyone else turned on their heels and ran off in different directions. Ben did try and press the rule of “no climbing,” but it was unlikely everybody heard.

There wasn't really a lot of places to hide, the curtains on the stage were taken quickly and many hid between the rows of seats, so Chris quickly disappeared backstage, looking for a good hiding place. He thought he might've found a perfect spot inside a stage prop that was a huge blue box but there was already someone hiding there. 

Eventually, Chris found a place under a pile of furs, stinky old things; he really didn't want to know what they've been used for, but Natalie managed to find him, as well as the others, quite quickly and oddly skillfully. She giggled quite uncontrollably as Chris had to practically fight his way out when she found him.

When the game was over, they all returned to the stage, meanwhile Tom and Ben prepared their seats.

"We could play kingdoms next," someone suggested and Ben nodded.

"Alright, let's do that."

Chris took a seat next to Natalie, as always; it would have felt unnatural otherwise, folding his legs under himself. 

"Alright..." Benedict murmured, finishing writing their names on a piece of paper. "Fine, who wants to start? Tom, would you be so kind?"

"You're Sherlock Holmes."

"Was it really so obvious....?"

"Yes," Tom smiled. Chris had to fight not to smile as well at such an endearing sight. He mentally shook himself and the squeezed the edge of his chair.

They managed to play the game for half an hour before too many names had been successfully guessed and forgotten. Ben soon announced they’d be doing something else. He jumped up and so did Tom, and while Ben was telling them that this was a present for them because they were all doing a great job, Tom dragged a big plastic bag onto the stage and turned it upside down, letting all fabrics and old clothes that were inside fall on the floor before them.

"These can help with your costumes," Tom grinned. "We hope they will."

"That is so cool!" The girls went straight to the fabrics, choosing ones they liked and the boys quickly followed, knowing that soon it could be too late. 

Ben smiled fondly, "leave some for other people guys!"

Soon the students parted and returned to their seats clutching the pieces of clothing and fabric.

"Do you have some scissors?" One of the girls asked.

"Needles and pins?"

"In the back rooms," Tom said, "there's quite a few materials and tools there too, no need to worry."

"I think this is fitting for Juliet?" Ben said, holding out a rather colourful dress to Natalie; if anything it just looked a little worn.

"This will be perfect," she smiled. "Thank you very much."

"No problem." Benedict nodded. "I think if we cut it here and put some other materials on the skirt, it could make a rather amazing dress."

 

"My dad's really good at that kind of thing," she said. "I'll take it home to him."

"Excellent." Benedict nodded. He glanced at Chris at one moment and sighed lightly; he was sitting on his chair with a pieces of dark blue and red fabrics, turning them over in his hands. He looked rather lost. "Chris? You chose nice colours. How about you go to help Mr Hiddleston with the props backstage and I'll see what we can do about your costume?" Benedict offered with fond smile.

The blonde looked at him gratefully and stood up. "Yes, sure. Thanks." He nodded and headed to backstage.

Hiddleston stood before the humongous wooden blocks that made up their set with a frown, emitting a long sigh.

"Maybe I could help?" The low Australian accent sounded from behind him and he turned to see Chris, standing there with slightly raised brows.

"Oh Chris," Tom greeted, mildly surprised. "That would be wonderful, thank you."

The other gave him a weak smile in return, and stepped up to the block from the other side, standing opposite Tom. "So...how should I take it? 

"I think if we both carry it in that direction," Tom tilted his head. "It should budge a long a bit."

"Yeah it should." Chris looked over his shoulder for a moment to check the way behind him, and gripped the edges of the block. "Okay, can't be that heavy for two."

"Let's hope not," he chuckled lightly and took the other side, "three, two, one..."

They lifted it, Chris’s his knees bending with the weight of it. "Kinda- heavier than I thought it would be," He huffed, but still he managed a light smirk and made a step back so they could start moving.

"Stupid thing," Tom sighed almost fondly. "Useful in scenes though-ah, here will do."

Chris hated the small moan-like sound Tom made as they put it down and they released from the weight, trying his best not to show it, he was glad it was dim incase he blushed at all. "What will this be anyway?"

"Part of a building structure," Tom tilted his head at it. "I thought it large enough."

"Well, no doubt about that," Chris breathed.

Tom chuckled lightly, "have you got your costume sorted out?"

"Professor Cumberbatch promised to help me with it." Chris admitted, feeling a little childish for having no actual clue himself.

"Oh that's good," Tom encouraged. "Ben wouldn't want to admit it but he has an eye for such things."

"Good for me then," Chris chuckled lightly. He didn't especially want to go back to sewing, so he turned to Tom, rubbing the back of his neck and asked. "Anything else I can help with?"

"Well there is..." Tom chewed his lip. "The blocks need to be put in two towers."

"Okay." Chris shrugged and pointed to where they came from. "They’re in the back I guess?" He asked and went to the backstage again when he received a nod, looking for another block to move.

"Somewhere around the back to the left," Tom told him, going to pile up some more reasonably sized blocks and trying to ignore the sensation in his hand; it felt like it was _burning_. This was ridiculous. Tom didn't understand it. 

Chris found another one large one to the left and waited till Tom came to help him with it. He smiled faintly at him, as if that could break the silence that had settled between them and mentally prepared himself for the soft groaning noise Tom would emit as they lifted it.

"Here we go," Tom counted down again and they lifted the block up.

They moved it onto the stage again and together lifted it on top of the first one. 

"Fine, looks like we- Oh careful." Chris said and quickly supported the block on Tom's side when it block started to fall.

"I think it's..." they managed to push it back on top. "On," Tom said.

"Yep," Chris gave a nod. "How many more is there? Like, just two?" He said as he slowly removed his hands, wary it would fall again.

"Just two," Tom nodded. "Thank you."

"In which scene will those be again?" Chris breathed and stretched his arms.

"In the chapel, when you're dying," Tom said almost sadly, he reached for the box to his side and accidentally brushed the back of Chris‘s hand. "Oh sorry," now Hiddleston was the one sounding flustered, much to Chris’s surprise.

Chris jumped backwards slightly at the touch so he hit the boxes behind with his back. "Shit," he turned quickly, catching them before they could fall. "Nothing. Whatever. It's okay- I..."

"Careful," Tom smiled subtly. "We've never been good at health and safety I'm afraid."

"No," Chris agreed, his heart still pounding and looked up at Tom's face, his cheekbones even more hollow in the dim light and he swallowed. "We obviously have a problem with that often. Too often."

"Indeed, we'll have to fix it," he nudged a box into it's place with the edge of his boot. Again it felt like they were talking about something else entirely, but Chris was sure he was simply thinking too much into it, thinking about Tom far too much. 

"Yeah...so I think I should um- let's just finish those." The Aussie said awkwardly and carefully walked past him to take the end of yet another block. Tom moved to take it from other side.

They moved that block, and the last in almost silence and when they had, Chris excused himself to go to toilet. Resting his hands on the bathroom sink, he looked at himself in the mirror. He felt frustrated; in all the meanings of the word. When Chris took a deep breath through his nose, he could still smell the scent of Tom's cologne that he’d breathed in as he’d passed by him. It was a fresh fragrance that was blended together with something that could be only described as Tom; tea, chocolate...Chris loved it. He mentally thanked God for the Christmas holidays. Some time away from his professor would definitely help this stop, whatever it was, before it got completely out of control.

They all said goodbye about half an hour later, wishing each other a very merry Christmas. Chris said his farewells to everyone, except Tom, who he just nodded at. He received a small but genuine smile in return.

*

A few days later Tom went christmas shopping, a light dusting of snow on the ground and in his hair. He was searching for presents for his family and Ben, perhaps Kenneth....no he wouldn't. That might be a little weird. He was feeling better too, as if he'd moved on from the little 'problem' with Chris; or at least he hoped he had. It was easier to acknowledge it now, now Tom was sure it had passed.

However, when he got to the boutique selling perfumes, a familiar figure came to his view. Dressed in a dark blue coat and grey trousers, big headphones on his head and a frown of concentration lining features, stood Chris. He was looking at perfumes one of the shelves, obviously in deep thought, running the back of his forefinger over his upper lip pensively.

Tom silently cursed to himself and glanced back at the moleskine notebooks for Ben across the store but the burning presence of Chris lingered in the back of his mind; he _knew_ he was there. Tom swallowed, he shouldn't feel like this. He was over it, he could have sworn he was.

Meanwhile, Chris had chosen one of the small, lightly pink bottles and headed to the cash desk; slipping his headphones around his neck as he did so.

Tom finally picked up a moleskine for Ben, deciding that there was nothing else in this particular shop that he wanted to buy. He headed to the opposite counter. After this he was going to have to go find some coffee. When he had bought the presents, Chris was already gone, much to his relief. Tom thanked the man at the checkout desk and then left, heading out of the shop in a hunt for more presents and coffee.

He unitentionally met with Chris an hour later again. The blonde was resting his forearms against the banister of the shopping mall’s top floor, looking at people passing by on the floor below nonchalantly, coke in one hand and a plastic bag full of presents in the other. At one point Tom happened to glance up and their eyes locked, Chris’s eyebrows rose a little in surprise.

Tom just nodded in politeness and walked on. Christ he needed help with this, maybe he could get a therapist? No, that would be stupid...he cursed to himself under his breath. If only he could talk to someone about this. His heart was pounding in his chest and he didn’t even understand why, or rather he did but he could barely even mentally admit it to himself...he thought it was gone. He felt like it had, but now after just literally seeing Chris again it had resurfaced. Tom sighed and shook his head. Christmas, he would focus on Christmas.

*

Chris turned his head after the other, chewing on his lip as he watched Tom disappear through the teeming holiday crowds. He thought the holidays would have helped him somehow, to forget maybe, but actually it was just worse. He found himself thinking of his professor several times, and what was even worse - he was missing him. The dreams hadn’t stopped either and Chris had finally stopped repressing them, he’d stopped having cold showers after them too. It was like over the holidays instead of moving on he was simply giving in. But he'd been spending his time with Robert and the rest of the gang as much as he could in effort to distract himself, usually it was as well until someone else brought up uni or classes.

*

Christmas was delightful, Tom had gone to stay with his parents as did the rest of their family. It was the best sort of distraction, for a couple of days he simply forgot about everything. His sister was pregnant again and her and her husband couldn't have looked happier. 

At new year he'd gone out with Ben, given him the moleskin book and received a vintage copy of Othello in turn. All in all he felt as if the Chris problem might have submersed again but the night before uni started up again, he wasn’t so lucky. He’d drunk a glass of red before he’d gone to bed and his dreams were vivid...

_His eyes fluttered open and there was a hand running through his hair, above them hung trees; he recognised the canopy as belonging to the forests nearby. Soft kisses trailed along his jawline up to his cheekbone, Tom could feel their smile against his skin. That made him smile in turn, but the smile was sleepy; even though he was conscious in the dream he still found himself to be drowsy. It was always like this, he was never fully awake. It was easier to pretend they never happened like this._

_The hand in his hair trailed down and cupped his cheek tenderly, tilting his head to face him. Chris smiled at him so endearingly it practically made Tom blush, which was ridiculous considering the reality of the situation. Their noses nudged together and it felt so familiar, for a dream it was. Then they were kissing and Tom’s eyes fluttered shut again, Chris wasn’t speaking and it was wonderful; the morality of the situation could stay buried. The fact that no questions needed to be asked was heavenly. Eventually Chris pulled away for air and kissed back down his jaw, nipping lightly before grazing his teeth gently on the underside, making Tom shudder. Then he moved and traveled lower, a hand trailing down Tom’s chest-_

Tom’s eyes snapped open and he dragged himself up and into the bathroom in seconds. He stood under the freezing cold spray of his shower for a good ten minutes before finally convincing himself to step back out.

He would run in to the university, he decided, to take his mind off _things._

*

Tom arrived in his lecture theatre on time, all the papers he’d mark during the holiday wedged under his arm. The students were all in their seats, all of them not exactly looking happy. After all, it was start of uni again and the exams were only getting closer. He began to hand out all their work, saying that he hoped they had good holidays. He also added that overall the class had done very well and he was very proud, it seemed expectations were high.

Chris felt strangely ashamed by that, as if Tom were talking only and especially to him; of course he wasn’t, it was Hiddleston for godsake but the thought still thrilled him in an odd way...

Tom then started the lecture, just a short one to get everyone back into the swing of things, on the relationship dynamic between Ariel and Prospero and how significant it was. The power and influence and companionship they shared, it bonded them; as well as their suffering. Two creatures who in some odd explainable way understood one another perfectly.

The students were trying to listen to him, but it was still a challenge to think coherently after the two weeks of winter joys. However, Chris was among those who seemed to be genuinely interested in what Tom'd been saying; he was writing it all down, because firstly, the tests were near and secondly he admittedly wanted to impress his professor, if by anything else then by showing his interest.

Tom knew that the students would be a little reluctant this first week so he tried not to take their disinterest to heart, he soon set them off on a small writing task to complete just before lunch. Checking his emails at the computer he found more ranting emails from Branagh, he sighed. Kenneth was writing him about the donations, of course, saying that if they wanted to make the performance at the end of the year, they'd have to mostly find their own money for it, which meant the audience would have to pay for the entrance. He and Benedict were always against that, thinking they should be grateful for people coming to support them, not wanting money for it. He'd have to have a word with him today.

*

Soon the lesson was over and the shape of Evans and Robert waiting for them outside was visible through the cloudy glass of the door. Chris nudged Scarlett lightly and they grinned at each other before slipping out of the class with the other students. 

"Hey mate," Chris smirked at Robert. "You know if you want to go on a date, just ask. No need to spy on us."

Robert rolled his eyes fondly, "oh your wit blondie, sharp as a knife."

"Lunch?" Evans smiled, "I'm starving."

Chris looked at Scarlett and they both nodded, heading to the lunch together. They took their usual seats; Chris intentionally sat down beside Scarlett, so he was facing the exit, and not the professor's table. Hence he missed the slightly heated discussion commencing between them.

*

"How the hell can he expect us to get enough money to pay for the whole theatre?" Benedict asked, eating from his plate aggressively. "We never have a big audience, and now when it's payed for it will be even smaller!"

"Ben," Tom's voice was calming, "there's nothing we can do about it. If you think it will help, we could charge a little more and give the proceeds to charity or something."

"Even though that's a lovely idea, it wouldn't help us anyhow." Benedict shook his head and took and inhaled a potato. "We need to think of something that would drag the people in."

Tom shrugged helplessly, "food?"

Benedict paused, thinking. "...That might work." he nodded finally. "But we'll have to ask the kids to bring some. And isn't it enough to ask for making their own costumes?"

"They'll understand," Tom encouraged. "We're in a recession."

"...You're telling them." He pointed at Tom with his fork. "I don't want to be dealing with that."

"Fine, I'll tell them," Tom sighed. "I'm sure it will go down fine...."

*

Robert downed his drink and gave a content sigh. "Just wanted to remind you how awesome was New Year's at Jeremy's."

"Hm, yeah," Natalie appeared disinterested. "It was...great."

"Ah, when we got Mark drunk and dared him to dance on the table top and he actually did!" Robert laughed at the memory. "That was the most beautiful thing!" 

"I think people were taking a lot of pictures." Evans grinned. 

"Yeah, that friend of Jeremy's what-was-his-name?" 

"You mean Jeff?"

"I didn't talk to him much," Evans shrugged. "What was he like?"

"Not too fantastic," Natalie said flatly.

"No?" Evans raised his brows. 

Chris turned to her as well, a more concerned look on his face. "Something happened?"

"He's an ass," she stated, glancing across the hall at him pointedly, or rather glaring. "That's all."

Chris followed her gaze to the boy he barely remembered from the party, having been pretty drunk himself at the time.   
The others didn't give it any more attention, waving it off, but when they left the canteen, Chris took Natalie aside. "You were quiet today," he pointed out gingerly. "Sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Jeff was just a jerk that's all," she shrugged and looked down. "But it's over and doesn't matter."

"The party guy?" Chris frowned. "Didn't work out?"

Natalie scoffed, "something like that."

"Blondie, hey!" shouted Robert. They were half way across the square already, "You coming?"

"Will be right there!" Chris waved at him and turned to Natalie again. "You sure?"

"I'm fine, he's just one of those jerks who turns out to be only after one thing, you know?" She said, chewing her lip.

He frowned. "You slept with him?" A horrid feeling settled in his gut. "And he left you?"

"The morning after," she grumbled. "He's an ass, least I know that now."

"Bastard." Chris hissed and looked up, looking for him in the group of guys who just came out of the canteen. 

"Chris," Natalie tugged on his arm. "Can we go? Please?"

He hummed, or rather growled, but walked with her part of the way to her next lecture. 

"Just leave it be," she said outside the building. "I'll see you tomorrow," Natalie turned and headed away toward her own subject corridors.

"You look off." Robert commented as Chris returned to them.

"Nothing. I'm just angry." Chris shook his head and before the other’s could protest further he headed off toward his own lecture.

Chris arrived at the lecture looking furious, Tom frowned subtly in his direction when he noticed, but said nothing.

"You okay?" Scarlett asked as Chris sat down.

“Fine," He said only. "Would just like this lecture to be a quick one."

Unluckily for him, as always when you're awaiting something, the time passes even slower; the minutes drag out. He was drumming his pen against the desk impatiently, until Scarlet stopped him by putting her hand over his. "Calm down, gosh, it's almost over."

Chris looked at his phone; ten minutes left. He packed his bag and raised his hand, excusing himself to toilet, and before Hiddleston could say anything, he left the lecture and went to sit in front of the building, ready to wait even the whole day for that asshole Jeff to turn up. He sat down on a bench and flexed his hands, cracking his knuckles.

*  
✖ H  
"Hey have you seen Chris?"

Evans turned to see Scarlett leaving the lecture theatre. "No why?"

"He just left early...seemed upset," she shrugged. "Is there something....?"

He nodded to the trail of people heading outside, "something's going on for sure."

*

"Hey Jeff!" Chris stood up when he noticed the black haired boy leaving the building among his friends.

He turned and looked at Chris with one raised brow. "Me? Do I know you?"

Chris smirked and walked over to him. "I'm Natalie's friend." He said dramatically a second before his fist connected with Jeff's nose.

*

"Professor Hiddleston!" Tom looked up to a young looking boy, was he perhaps in art...? "There's a fight outside!" 

Tom was up and out of his seat in a few seconds, following the boy outside. 

*

Chris's back hit the ground when Jeff sat astride on him, and he hit the back of his head against the concrete hard as he was punched, his nose soon throbbing with a raw pain. He grimaced as his skull crunched against the ground.

The boy punched him again, the stupid ring on his finger scratching Chris's skin. 

He growled, and tried to push him off, distracting Jeff enough to throw him on the ground next to him with one good aimed punch to his ridiculous face.

"Stop this _now_!"

All heads turned to Mr. Hiddleston and some were even wide eyed and a little intimidated; the students had obviously never heard him shout before. Tom took in the bloodied appearances of the two boys in front, "Now someone tell me _what_ is going on _exactly_."

"He started it! For no reason!" Jeff exclaimed, rubbing at his face.

"No reason?" Chris snapped, resisting the urge to punch him again. "You son of a bitch!"

"Chris," Tom's tone was stern but gentle. "Don't."

"Jeff come with me," Kenneth appeared from the crowd. "This is the third incident this year, my office now. Professor Hiddleston, take Chris to the medical room."

The crowd started to walk away, seen as the spectacle was over; Jeff trailed after Branagh miserably.

Chris was breathing heavily, watching him go before he finally picked himself up from the floor.

"It's not my fault!" He said, still a little angrily and waved his hand after the leaving boy. 

"We're going to the medical room," Tom said flatly and turned on his heel, he almost sounded disappointed. 

Chris sighed and wiped the blood from the cut on his eyebrow from his eye with the sleeve of his shirt and followed him through the hall of the main building, staying about two steps behind.  
The medical room was a small white room in the ground floor that smelled of disinfection, with one single bed cover in thick plastic.

"Sit down," Tom nodded towards the bed and went to rummage through the cupboards; pulling out disinfectant and swabs.

Chris did as he was told and sat down on it with a huff. His back was obviously affected by the incident as well, it ached as he did so. "I don't need this," he said quietly. "It's just a scratch."

"If blood gets into your eyes you won't be able to see," Tom said, dipping a swab into the disinfectant. "And it could get infected."

"You don't have to do this though." Chris tried again and looked up, resting his hands beside himself on the bed.

"That would be a failure of duty of care," Tom said, "now please close your eyes, this is going to sting a bit."

Chris sighed, but did as Tom said. He heard the other's steps across the floor and suddenly there was the smell of Tom's cologne again flooding his nostrils and he almost jumped when the cold swab touched the sensitive skin of the wound.

"Sorry, should I have warned you," he threw away the dirty swap and went to dip another in the bottle before returning. "So why did Jeff deserve to have his face punched in?"

"He did- ouch!" Chris hissed when the disinfection leaked into the wound. "Pissed me off," he said, trying to open his eyes just a little to look at the other, seeing the rather pleasant view of the buttons on Tom's dark blue waistcoat.

Tom gently smeared the leaking disinfectant off of his skin with a cloth around the wound before continuing, "and that deserved a beating?"

"Well yeah," Chris shrugged and chewed on his lower lip. "For what he did to Natalie, definitely."

"Oh? I see, well if you want to stand up for your girlfriend," he dipped the swab back in the disinfectant again. "There are other ways, ways that won't get you in so much trouble."

Chris opened his eyes fully when Tom stopped cleaning his eyebrow for a moment and shook his head. "She ain't my girlfriend. Just don't want anyone to act like this with her."

"Oh sorry, I shouldn't presume," Tom said apologetically, though he sounded a little too content at the news; his tone light. "It's good that you want to stick up for her but there are other ways."

"Well this was easier." Chris stated and met Tom's gaze. "...will I get punished for it?"

"Depends," Tom sighed. "But certainly if it happens again."

"Crap..." Chris swore, suddenly realising what he'd done; he could've been at least been clever enough not to fight on campus. "Sir please, I- They can't expel me, right?"

"Not for one fight," Tom assured him. "But the tolerance levels are low. Just don't let it happen again."

"I won't." Chris shook his head. "Or I'll try, at least." He said and smiled lightly at him.

"Good," Tom threw the used swabs in the bin. "People like Jeff aren't worth it Chris, don't let him jeopardise your education. Don't let anyone do that."

Tom’s expression became more serious, and Chris shook his head again. "I won't, sir." He said firmly, so Tom would know he meant it.

Tom smiled, "there we go, now are you bleeding anywhere else or is that all from your forehead?"

Chris smirked and ran his fingertips over the patch on his forehead. "I guess this is all. Thanks."

"No problem Chris," Tom shook his head. "I'll see you at the rehearsal." 

"Sure." He said with a small smile, but didn't move. Chris just remained sitting on the bed, looking at Tom and his hands clenched the edge of the mattress a bit tighter.

"Are you...alright Chris?" Tom asked gingerly

"Yeah," He said quickly and shook his head, breaking the eye contact at last, and hopped down off the bed. "I better get going."

Tom nodded, "have a good day."

Chris quickly left the room, not taking his eyes off the tips of his shoes until he was certain he was far enough away, letting out a shuddered breath.

*

It took Chris over half an hour before Natalie finally accepted his apology, punching him to his shoulder once more, just so he'd realise how angry she was with him, but Chris knew she was glad.

"But you did win right?" Robert asked again.

"It doesn't matter," Evans nudged him. "Point is he stuck up for Natalie."

"Which he shouldn't have done," Natalie insisted. "You got yourself hurt."

"I'm okay!" Chris whined. "Look, all patched up."

"Still," Natalie stated. "Never again, okay?"

"Fine," Chris nodded. "I won't, I promise."

"Thank you," Natalie breathed. 

"I think we should go for drinks tonight," Robert said.

"We have rehearsal."

"Tomorrow night then..."

"Are we going to go drink every time one of us has a fight?" Chris asked with a chuckle.

"You'd be surprised Blondie," Robert shrugged. "But it's actually not that often."

*

Chris had learnt by now that if he turned up to rehearsal early it just be him and his professor; a scenario that would probably best to avoid currently. But then he could hardly attempt to avoid him with Hiddleston being his professor...  
He was playing with the idea when Natalie tapped on his shoulder.  
"Sorry, what?"

"I _said_ how is your head doing?" She asked, looking at the cut in concern. 

"It's nothing, don't worry," Chris smirked gently. "Just don't touch it." He said and demonstratively stroked the back of his head with a hiss.

She winced, "you be careful at rehearsal."

"Don't worry." He winked with a gentle laugh. "I have you to take care of me."

"Very true," she smiled. "Come on, we don't want to be late."

"We're not late, I bet no one's there yet. Except Hiddleston," Chris rolled his eyes fondly.

"I have questions to ask about my costume," she tugged on his arm. "So come on."

As Chris said, when they entered, the only one in the room was Tom, who was hanging their unfinished costumes on the hangers around the stage. 

"Good evening sir." Natalie greeted with a smile and Chris nodded at him.

"Hello," Tom turned to them briefly with a warm smile before continuing his work. "I don't think we'll do too much today, mostly just costumes."

"Is this mine?" Chris got up the stage and went to look at what he presumed what was his own, it was made from the fabrics he'd chosen. It was still just the basic idea of what the costume would be, but it looked good already. "Wow, it looks amazing compared to last time." He beamed at Tom, while Natalie went to put her coat and bag on a chair.

"Ben's secretly an enthusiast for such things," Tom chuckled lightly as he pulled out the last hanger with costume. "Though he was guessing your size, so we'll need to alter it quite a bit."

"Should I try it on?" Chris asked, gracing the blue fabric with his fingers lightly and smirked; he would've never have thought he'd be so excited about a theatre costume.

"Of course." Tom nodded, "the changing rooms are just backstage."

Chris took the costume carefully, conscious of how well sewed it was, and went backstage to try it on.

Natalie asked Tom a few questions about her costume and some lines and then went to try hers on as well.

"Doesn't this look stupid?" Chris asked unsurely when he saw Natalie as he was walking out the changing rooms. "I'm not sure if..."

"It looks okay, the shirt is just a little tight," she smirked. "Colours are good though."

"Yeah, think I'd rip it if I bend," He grinned and stepped aside so she could walk into the dressing room, then left. He stepped back on stage and for a moment just watched Tom preparing the scissors and nails, before he eventually cleared his throat and shrugged with a small smile when Tom turned around.

"How does it fit?" Tom asked, "it looks very Romeo-esc, we'll just have to give you a few more layers."

"Maybe the shirt?" Chris asked and rubbed his chest. "Isn't it too tight?"

"A little," Tom agreed. "It can be loosened." His gaze definitely lingered on the shirt or rather what lay underneath but Chris knew he was being silly now; just being hopeful. Of course Yom was looking, he cared about the costume.

"That would be a good idea, yes." Chris smirked gingerly and buttoned up his coat, to see how that looked.

"You just need a little more colour," Hiddleston smiled. "Then you'll be sorted."

"I'll look like a rainbow,” Chris laughed gently. "But I bet that's your intention." He teased and slipped the coat off again, it was quite stuffy with it on.

"You're supposed to look romantic," Tom said, "all happy colours full of hope."

Chris nodded slowly. "Right. Guess I'll have to rely on you for that."

"Don't worry," Tom assured him. "We know what we're doing."

_If only I could say the same._ Chris thought but didn't say it, just smiled weakly at him.

"It'll be okay," Tom said softly. "Ben knows outfits."

"It seems like the both of you know - like everything." Chris said and went to sit down on the stage, folding his legs beneath him.

"We've both been to acting schools," Tom shrugged. "We've just had experience." 

"And you also know an insane amount about English, plays, sports and basic medical stuff,” Chris pointed out with raised brow.

"I know how to put one foot in front of the other and sterilise a wound," Tom shook his head. "Hardly skills."

"Maybe," Chris shrugged and lightly touched his forehead. "But this worked." He said with a grin and looked down for a moment. When he met Tom's gaze again, his expression was more serious. "I wanted to apologise. For the fight and stuff."

"Oh?" Tom sounded a little surprised, "well it's okay, as long as it doesn't happen again."

"It won't," Chris shook his head. "Natalie would kill me...I just- I don't normally beat people up, I'm no fighter."

"I believe you Chris," Tom's tone was gentle. "Just try not to let things get to you like that."

"That's hard sometimes," Chris said and met his gaze. 

"I know," Tom said, "I understand but you've just got to concentrate on other things."

"I'll try." Chris promised. _Wish I could. I wish I could concentrate in the first place._

"I'm sorry I can't help more," Tom said apologetically. "But there will always be people like Jeff."

"Jeff's not bothering me." Chris waved his hand. "Not at all." Tom frowned and opened his mouth to say something.

"This is just perfect!" Natalie giggled when she came up onstage and turned in her dress. "I look like a real princess."

"It is! It's wonderful," Tom agreed, looking almost relieved at the change of subject.

"What do you think Chris?" Natalie said, spinning for effect again.

"You look gorgeous." Chris smiled truthfully and stood up, bowing slightly before her. _"Shall I compare thee to the summer's day?"_

She laughed and rolled her eyes fondly, "always so witty Chris. You look good yourself."

"Thanks. Looks like we're a good couple." The smirked and glanced at Tom.

"Perfect," Tom smiled.

"Indeed," Natalie poked his forehead. "Aside from that."

"Ouchies!" Chris twitched. "That wasn't exactly nice, you know?"

"Sorry," though she smiled all the same. "Should I stay in this or get changed?"

"Up to you completely," Tom said.

"I'm keeping this on," Chris said when she glanced at him him. "I quite enjoy this."

"It does get you into it more," she agreed.

*

"Come on Tom."

"Ben, you do-"

"The others want to, come on Tom. It's your birthday, let's go out."

 

"But marking-"

"Marking can wait, this is just one day a year."

"...Fine."

Tom had relented, gotten dressed and headed out to meet Ben and a few of their friends at a local club; wearing a green shirt, jeans with boots and his favourite leather jacket and a scarf as always.

"Here he is!" Benedict exclaimed when Tom arrived at the club. He waved him over to their table where he, Martin and a few other of their coworkers were sitting. "Happy birthday Thomas!"

"Thank you," he yelped as Ben pulled him into a hug. "This is all very kind of you."

"You needed some time out," Benedict patted his back when he pulled away and sat them both down. "So, here's your drink, and don't feel like you have to have fun, but it would be great if you did."

"Thank you," Tom said again with a fond smile; Martin taking their coats away to the cloakroom; all of them bundled up from the cold winter outside. "This is...really nice of you, it means a lot Ben."

"I just want you to enjoy this, it’s your birthday," Benedict smiled lightly and Martin nodded as he sat back down.

"Yes, you're thirty only once in life."

"Very true," Tom smiled and drank his drink gingerly, whatever it was it was strong.

Mark and Steven chuckled from across the table. "Tonight will be fun," Mark promised.

* 

Two hours later, Tom felt tipsy. And around midnight he was drunk. Luckily for him, his intoxication was making him all smiley, which wasn't the worst of things.

"I'm just going to the loo," Benedict said, "stay here so I can find you..." Martin and the others were already on the dance floor. 

"Okay," Tom nodded, "I'll stay here. Exactly here. Right here."  
Of course about thirty seconds later Tom got bored, he downed his...whatever it was and stood; there was a small balcony in this club, if this was the club he thought it was, and he craved the fresh air. With slightly uncoordinated movements he walked up the stairs.  
The night breeze ruffled his hair softly and woke him up a bit as he walked out. Enough for Tom to be aware of the other people outside on the balcony. He took a deep breath of fresh air and gave a content sigh.  
Tom went to lean against the bannister, drinking in the air with his head in his hands. He felt really very drunk but it was pleasant, he felt airy; light and he didn't care about how he would feel the next morning. For once he was relaxed.  
About a minute or two later, a girl leaned against the bannister next to him with her back facing Tom, giggling softly as a low voice was whispering in her ear. A _familiar _low voice. Tom frowned, he knew that voice...but no, no name was coming to him. He needed a face, he pulled back slightly to see... _oh. That's who it was.___

__Chris's eyes seemed a little unfocused, obviously he'd drunk quite a bit himself; he was stroking the girl's arm with one hand. When he pulled away to look at her with cheeky smile, his eyes met with Tom's. "Oh… hey," He mumbled and straightened up._ _

__"Chris," by Tom's tone he was clearly drunk but still cheery. The girl looked between the two, Chris's attention now completely diverted from her to Hiddleston. She huffed._ _

__"I'm going to go get a drink," she announced and walked back in._ _

__"Yeah, sure go," Chris waved her off with little care. He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet uncomfortably before he leaned against the bannister next to Tom.. "Enjoying the night view?"_ _

__"Prefer the air," Tom said a little drunkenly, his smile lopsided. "Needed to get out, so warm in there."_ _

__"I know right." He chuckled. "It's like...hot."_ _

__"Like a sauna," Tom agreed with a short giggle. "I get way too hot with dancing."_ _

__"You dance?" Chris turned to him with a grin._ _

__"Of course," Tom beamed. "You've got to love dancing!"_ _

__"Is there anything you don't do?" Chris laughed and ran a hand through his hair._ _

__"Maths," Tom smirked, "can't do maths to save my life."_ _

__*_ _

__"Perfection at it's finest, huh?" Chris chuckled, a tired smile on his face. He knew he probably shouldn't be talking with his professor like this, but this was the nice part of being drunk- he just couldn't care less. All barriers had fallen._ _

__"Hmm perfect‘s boring," Tom smiled almost sadly and looked out at the city, "when people are flawed they're far more interesting," he glanced at Chris, at the cut now healing on his forehead._ _

__"It's funny that you didn't deny that you’re perfect," Chris giggled._ _

__"Now I didn't agree either," Tom smirked. "I am far from perfect."_ _

__"Know a lot of people that'd disagree really," Chris mumbled. He wasn’t moving but he felt heavier, the alcohol getting to his head. "Like Downey! For example he'd...he'd disagree."_ _

__"No offence to Downey but his standards are..." Tom chuckled and shook his head. "Also, he's a student."_ _

__"Yeah right." Chris nodded and looked out the lights twinkling in the ctiy’s houses. "There's the catch."_ _

__"There are rules," Tom sighed. "They're a pain but they're there."_ _

__"I know what you mean." Chris nodded sympathetically, "Me as a student, it’s affects...."_ _

__"Oh?" Tom turned to him, "how does it affect you?"_ _

__Chris tried his best to keep a neutral expression, and shrugged. "You know...as it does you."_ _

__"Right..." Tom half frowned, his thought process practically visible through a series of expressions. "But you don't know how it affects me..."_ _

__"No I don't," Chris agreed. "Can only guess." He turned, leaning his back against the bannister now and looked at the door; colourful lights shone through and music boomed. "Should maybe get back inside...Anything could have happened, maybe they’ll start to worry about me."_ _

__Tom still looked confused, "do you want to go back inside?"_ _

__Chris looked at him and for a few seconds remained quiet, just watching the lights dancing across Tom's face, outlining his features, before he shook his head lightly. "I'm quite okay here."_ _

__Tom glanced at him, suddenly aware of the burning hot sensation of their arms pressed together against the banister. "Hm, same...I'm very drunk," he laughed weakly._ _

__"It's probably for the best," Chris murmured. "Because I'm sure I shouldn't be talking with you like this. Really. Surely." he said and giggled at how strange the words sounded._ _

__"I think you often talk with me in ways you shouldn't do," Tom said quietly. "But I don't mind so much."_ _

__"You should," Chris challenged in a low voice, looking down at the floor in front of them._ _

__"Can't help it," Tom bit his lip._ _

__"...I guess I really should go now," Chris said after a moment. "Just don't think I should..."_ _

__"Right," Tom swallowed and looked ahead. "Of course."_ _

__"G'night sir."_ _

__"Good night," Tom breathed out, but Chris still made no move to leave. He glanced sideways which was a mistake because then Chris's eyes were right before Tom’s own, blue and bright._ _

__His breath hitched, and he could almost feel as his pupils dilated when he met the other's gaze. And then, not even knowing how, Chris was crushing his lips against his._ _

__Tom gasped into the kiss, thread hand into Chris's hair and tugging him closer; too intoxicated to think nor care about consequences._ _

__Chris broke the kiss to take a breath, his hands clutching the lapel’s of Tom's leather jacket. The kiss was nothing like he'd imagined, not slow, not loving, and he could barely smell and taste Tom over all the alcohol, but when he opened his eyes, he was there, looking startled and scared all at once, gaze flitting over Chris's face._ _

__"Chris-" Tom began but before he knew it they were kissing again, his hands threaded into Chris's hair._ _

__It was messy, their breaths quick and fast as they craved more. "Jesus." Chris managed to breathe out only, putting his hands on Tom's slim waist._ _

__Tom smiled against his mouth, arms hanging loosely over Chris's broad shoulders, the other's hands on his waist a burning touch._ _

__Chris felt like he could never pull away; he didn't want to, but eventually, it became inevitable and he slowly pulled away Tom's lips, breaking away as much as the other's hold allowed him to. "This-" he swallowed to calm his breathing down a little and chuckled. "This is messed up."_ _

__"Very," Tom agreed weakly. "I won't even remember this in the morning," he sounded almost sad._ _

__Chris rolled his eyes fondly at that and moved so Tom's lower back was pressed against the bannister, then tilted his head to Tom's neck. He then cupped Tom's cheek, the stubble scratching his palm lightly, and put his lips to his neck, sucking softly at the skin there._ _

__Tom made a noise of approval and arched his neck back to give Chris better access, one hand fisted in the other's shirt as if he were afraid of letting go._ _

__The younger smirked at that, finishing the dark red hickey on Tom's neck and kissed his way up his neck and across jaw before he looked at him again._ _

__Tom kissed him again but this time it was sweeter, shorter and he pulled away only moments later. "Someone's going to come looking for me very soon," he sighed._ _

__"You're here with Cumberbatch?" Chris asked and pulled a face when Tom nodded. "Guess you should go back inside then."_ _

__"I guess," Tom appeared reluctant, his eyes glassy from drink and something else. "Goodnight Chris."_ _

__Chris nodded and stepped out of his way so Tom could leave. "G'night. Sir."_ _


	10. Breaking down barriers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the long wait. School is a time consuming ass. Hope you guys enjoy. x

"Here you are!" Benedict, even though very drunk, somehow managed to find his friend at last. "Should've been waiting for me, no?"

"I n-needed fresh air," Tom shrugged, his smile lopsided, "sorry." 

"Well don't run off again," Benedict said, taking him by his shoulder, guiding him back to their table. "Martin thought you went home, but I said you were too drunk for that." He chuckled, the noise easy and light as they sat back down.

"I may have to go home soon," Tom slurred. "Got to be up in..." he glanced at his watch. "Like five hours to teach my class."

"Screw those little bastards," Martin waved his hand and leaned back in his seat with a smile. "Just give them a paper ."

"I do have to give a lecture," Tom chuckled.

"Fine, fine. We'll finish this round and we can go." Benedict agreed eventually. "I hope the lecture will be at least amazing."

"If I make it in," Tom smirked drunkenly. 

Martin chuckled, "knowing you, in an Apocalypse you would."

*  
The next morning Tom woke at eight with a groan, his head throbbing; his alarm clock blaring and angry. He showered, drank copious amounts of coffee and headed out early. He decided to walk in that day, in hope of clearing his head. 

There was a light dusting of snow on the ground as he walked into the lecture theatre. He arrived early and cursed as he sat down in front of his computer, the blank screen acting as a mirror; he had a very dark hickey on his neck. If only he'd looked in the mirror earlier he would have spotted it...he pulled his collar up in a weak attempt to hide it. What on earth had he gotten up to last night? Did he even want to know? Well, there was no way he could remember. It was simply a foggy haze of drinking and dancing. Letting out a groan he let his head fall into his hands.

*

The only comforting thing for Chris that day was that all of his friends felt equally sick and had headaches, not just him. So even Robert, who would normally be talking non stop was surprisingly quiet, rubbing at his eyes as he leant against the corridor wall. Evans and Scarlett plonked down on the floor opposite.  
Chris's morning had been awful. He had barely gotten any sleep at all, as he’d had to get up earlier so he didn’t bump into his mother on his way out; he didn't want her to know that he was going to clubs during university days. It felt as if his stomach had been turned upside down from the second he got up, but luckily for him, the only moment when he actually felt like throwing up was when he looked at himself into the mirror...and remembered last night. He couldn't recall everything, but enough to make him curse at himself and slump down on the edge of their bath. _He kissed his professor._ No. No that wasn't the right word. He practically made out with him.

"You should go..." Robert mumbled and nudged Scarlett's leg with the tip of his foot lightly. "Your lecture is starting."

Scarlett groaned and pushed herself up, "I really hope it's just work and no lecture."

Chris didn't say anything, already dreading today’s lecture enough as it was.

Professor Hiddleston was already there; just the sight of him made Chris stop in the door for a second, his mind going through all the possible scenarios of what could possibly happen now. Then Scarlett turned to him and he had to move, walking by his desk. Tom looked wasted, his hair combed, but still dishevelled and he had dark circles under his eyes.

Chris looked away before the other could notice him staring and quickly went to take his seat.

The lecture was short, the Professor clearly not having the energy to talk for long; he set them simple work for the rest of the class. When he sat back down at his desk his whole body sagged, the exhaustion evident in not only his expression but his posture too.

Even though Chris didn't want to, his curiosity made him look up from his desk a few times to glance at his professor. And that was when he noticed the dark spot on his neck, just above the collar of his white shirt. "Holy- oh crap." He murmured, quickly looking away. Chris could feel his cheeks heating up.

"What's wrong?" Scarlett whispered. 

"Nothing. I just remembered something," Chris murmured evasively.

"Okay..." she sounded unconvinced but didn’t press him any further. Hiddleston dismissed them not long after, Natalie and Robert were waiting outside for them.

"You should've seen him," Scarlett smirked when they walked out, obviously amused. "Looks like he had a tough night."

"I think we all did," Robert chuckled, "and I didn't even pull! Though I'm pretty sure blondie did..."

Chris's head snapped up. "W-what?"

"You came back from the balcony grinning from ear to ear," Robert teased. 

"Yeah well," Chris rubbed the back of his neck. "Guess I got a little lucky."

"Oh that dark haired girl?" Evans asked excitedly. "With the glittery top?"

"Eh, yes," The Aussie chuckled nervously.

"Good for you man," Robert smiled and nudged him. "You get her number?"

"No," Chris said truthfully."She wasn't that interesting."

"It's so awesome to hear you guys talk like this." Scarlett pulled a face.

"Chris can say a girl isn't interesting can't he?" Robert cocked his head.

"Well, yeah, but-"

"No, I'm sorry," Chris said. "She just wasn't what I've been looking for."

Natalie raised a brow, "can we go grab some coffee Chris?" She asked. 

Chris noticed her expression and nodded slowly. "Um, yes, sure." he said cautiously, wondering whether 'coffee' was their code word now.

She tugged his arm and they parted from the group saying brief goodbyes; they headed to a small coffee shop just on the edge of campus; Natalie not saying much as they walked.

"So um...Capuccino?" Chris asked in a murmur, looking for his wallet.

"Please," she nodded with a small smile and went to find them seats.

Chris bought them coffees just as he had before and went to sit opposite her, nursing his cup in his hands after placing Natalie’s own in front of her. "We're not here for the drinks, huh?"

"Not just the drinks no," she bit her lip. "Are you okay? You came out of English looking like you'd seen a ghost."

"No," Chris shook his head. "But I didn't have exactly good night, tis all."

"Oh?" Natalie frowned, "I thought you got with that girl."

"For a while." Chris sighed. "You know how I've told you about the _someone_ ?"

"Yes," she sipped her coffee. "Go on."

"Well," He sighed. "He was there, and we were both rather drunk. And we kissed." Chris confessed. He had no intention in telling her who it was, of course, but it almost felt worse saying it out loud. It made it so much more real vocalising it.

"Isn't that a good thing?" She asked, "I mean you remember, you can't have been _that_ drunk right?"

"Told you it has no future, no? And yes, I do. Some things, but he doesn't or is far better than me at hiding it." Chris admitted with a sigh and sipped of his coffee

"Find out if he remembers," she said. "I think you need to know that, for your own peace of mind."

"Maybe it would be easier to pretend like we don't know anything, don't you think?" Chris asked unsurely. 

"Avoiding the matter will just make it worse," Natalie said. "You will have to face it at some point."

"Hmm, you're probably right." Chris agreed, still a little unsure and reluctant about it all. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to know the answer, really, because then he'd have to work with one of the scenarios he'd been thinking about the whole day. But then again, he'd have something to start with, and everything seemed to be better than this ignorance. He just _had_ to know if Tom remembered.

"If you need to talk about it more I can help," she assured him. "I've had my fair share of relationships."

"Really?" Chris smirked. "Glad I’ve only ended up fighting for one of them."

"You didn't have to," she sighed. "But I appreciate the gesture, thank you. Have I helped at all? I don't feel like I have..."

"Yes. You did." Chris reached out and took her hand with a fond smile, giving it a squeeze, "it feels good to talk about it with you in a way."

"Thank you," she smiled and squeezed his hand back. "Happy to help."

*

Tom looked up from his coffee in the canteen when Ben sat down before him, plate in hand. "Good morning," he breathed a little sleepily.

"I'm glad to see someone’s having an even worse day than me," Benedict chuckled lowly and smiled sweetly at him.

"I don't even know what time I got in last night," Tom smiled. "I don't even remember much of the night in truth, I was just grateful to wake up in my own bed alone."

Benedict tilted his head lightly and looked at Tom's neck pointedly. "Looks like you weren't far from the alternative."

"But it didn't happen," Tom insisted. "And that's what matters...speaking of that do you have any idea who it was?"

"You honestly think I'm any better than you?" Benedict shook his head. "Though I think it could've happened when I lost you for a while at one point."

"I remember going outside for a bit," Tom said, "but after that it's blurry..."

"Was it good at least?" The other man smiled. "Because it would be a shame to forget that."

"Well I had fun, I remember that much so thank you," Tom grinned.

"Not all of that was my doing." Benedict waved his hand. "But I'm glad you did, it's good to go out now and then. You need a break."

"Very true," Tom chuckled, "I might get home and go to bed...before I fall asleep on campus."

"Kenneth is still in a bad mood because of the money and the fight from two days ago by the way," Benedict said. "So disappearing is a good idea."

"Oh gods I forgot to mention the food thing," Tom groaned, "I'll try mention it next rehearsal." He stood and pulled his bag onto his shoulder, "see you Ben."

"Hope you’re feeling better tomorrow," Benedict chuckled. "Have a good sleep Tom."

"Thank you," Tom laughed weakly as he walked away. "I most certainly will."

*

It'd been more than a week since the incident at the nightclub now, and Chris was sitting on a bench before English office, waiting for professor Hiddleston.

He hadn't spoken with him yet, not about what had happened that is. Of course, with their lectures and rehearsals Chris couldn't avoid all of their conversations, but he tried to keep them short and just occasional, the same as being with Tom alone; he was always going to the aula and lectures with someone, asking for help more from Benedict than Tom, restraining his natural casualness.

He crumpled the sheet of paper in his hands nervously and flicked through the text for the millionth time.

"Chris," Tom was clearly surprised to see him at the office, "is there anything I can do for you?" He asked, poking his head out the door.

He jumped up when Tom looked towards him. "Y-yes, sir," He said nervously and held out the paper without another word, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looked down, unable to meet the other's gaze.

"Y-you want to leave the course?" Tom's eyes widened, "can I ask why?"

"I don't think it's really my thing," Chris said, because he could hardly explain the real reason to Tom; that it was because of him; because he couldn't focus because of him, he was dreaming about him, because he kissed him and- damn, he couldn't stop thinking about it. He was sure Tom would've had understood if he have had remembered, but even though this could might seem unfair, it was the best option. The best option for both of them Chris had decided.

"Really?" Tom frowned, "but your essays were so good and...very well, if you're sure Chris."

"I'm sure sir," He said. "I'd like to change it, if that's still possible. I know it's the end of term, but..."

"Can I ask why?" Tom said, " _really_ why?"

"No sir," Chris shook his head and swallowed, glancing at Tom's neck wrapped up in the chequered scarf. "Not really."

"Oh...okay," Tom breathed, slightly confused when he followed Chris's gaze. He ran a hand through his hair. "Very well."

"Blondie!" Robert came running down the corridor towards them, "We're going out tonight. Just like last week, same club, the flamingo one. Maybe you'll pull again," he winked.

Chris's felt his gut twist horribly and he stood still like a statue. His mouth went absolutely dry, but still he somehow managed to crook a weak smile. "Yeah sure. Just gotta finish something here..."

"You went out last week?" Tom asked.

"Yeah, great fun," Robert grinned, "perhaps I'll try my luck on the balcony," he winked again at Chris and walked away.

Tom felt all the colour drain from his face as Robert half danced away.

"...You're not leaving the course because of that, are you?"

"I was...I-" Chris opened his mouth but couldn't find the right words. He just shook his head, with a sorry expression.

Tom eyes fell shut and he let out a long breath, "come into the office Chris," he said and then walked through the glass door in question; holding the door open for him.

Chris followed him inside and closed the door behind them reluctantly, thinking whether he should just run off now; gods he wanted to. Swallowing, he turned to Hiddleston. "Sir, I- ain't sure what to..."

"You enjoy the course, yes?"

"I did- _do_ ." Chris said quickly. "But..."

"Then stay on the course, this is your education," Tom stated. "In the end I should have nothing to do with it, and I deeply apologise for making you want to leave."

"No. No, it's not your fault sir," he shook his head. "I just thought it best, it was...a bit awkward." Chris frowned at the word and looked down, chewing on his lip.

"It must have been for you, I am very sorry Chris," Tom sighed, "this is so awfully unprofessional..."

"...how's your neck?" Chris dared to smirk faintly, looking up shyly.

"Almost gone now," Tom said quietly, "sort of relieved to know who it was actually."

"Hm...don't quite know if I should be as well," Chris murmured and made a step closer, holding out his hand that was shaking slightly. "Can I have the request back?"

"Yes, yes of course," Tom handed it to him, their fingers brushing; he looked up. 

Chris felt it too and met his gaze, lips parted slightly. "I..."

Tom glanced to the glass door of the office, the corridor and students walking past clearly visible outside. "I'll see you on monday, yes?"

"Yeah." He folded the paper back up and put it inside his pocket, then headed to the door. "Have a good weekend."

"You too,"

Chris left the office, letting out a shuddered breath and closed his eyes, his hand still lingering on the handle. Jesus, that was horrible. He expected Hiddleston to react somehow, but not to apologise. But then again, that was just Hiddleston all over.

*

Tom collapsed into a chair, head in his hands. He never wanted monday to come around ever but then...at the same time he just wanted it to come around _now_. 

*

"Chris?" His mother's voice sounded from behind his bedroom door, followed by a quiet knocking. "Sweetheart are you feeling well?" 

Chris was lying on his back in his bed, playing absentmindedly with a figure of tanned surfer he'd gotten from his friends when he was leaving Australia; turning it over in his hands as his mother walked in. Her brows furrowed and she went to sit down next to him.

"I'm okay." He assured her. "Just tired."

"Perhaps you should have an early night tonight," she suggested gently and pushed the hair back from his face. "No, you don't have a temperature...least the cut has almost healed."

Chris sighed and put the figure down, then looked up at her. "Mom, do we have enough money to make a trip to Melbourne?"

"We will by summer," she said, smiling. "A full four weeks."

Chris smiled for a moment. "Summer's so far away."

"I know dear but worth the wait," she squeezed his hand. "We all miss home."

"I guess I'll just go to bed now..." Chris said quietly and looked down at his mom's hand. His own suddenly looked so big in comparison.

"I'm sorry you're not so happy here," she kissed his forehead, "good night my love."

Chris hummed and turned on one side, looking at his window.

He hated making his mother more stressed than she already was; with the new house, his brothers, and dad returning home late and in a bad mood more often than he should, but he didn't want to be the only always good son who was consistently strong and happy. Liam was too young to understand the situation, and Luke was barely at home, having his own life now almost, and it was just too much on him all at once. 

He didn't despise it here entirely, there was the beach, and he did have friends here, even university was fine. There was the theatre, interesting lectures...and nice professors.

It took a while for sleep to reach him but when it did Chris welcomed it with relief.

*

The next monday Tom jogged in, having gotten a good night's sleep for once. He tried not to let his mind wander too much if only to keep track on where was going, nearly bumping into a few people on his way into campus despite his efforts.

He still couldn’t quite get his head round it, not matter how much it all fitted together. He couldn’t believe he’d kissed a student, that they’d given him a _hickey_ for god’s sake. It was so unprofessional of him he could scarcely believe it in a way. The part that frightened Tom though was that...he almost liked the idea-no. He did like the idea. The thought of kissing Chris didn’t horrify him, which it should immensely considering but it didn’t; it almost made him sad that he didn’t remember it. Tom shook his head, clearing his thoughts again, apologising into someone he very nearly bumped into.

He arrived in his waistcoat and jeans just on time, most of the students already in the lecture theatre. It wasn't going to be a long lesson today, just a simple introduction for the much longer one that would follow on thursday. After all exams were only getting closer, Tom felt nervous for his students already.

*

They were going to get practice papers for their future tests today, the students already sat down revising hurriedly in case Hiddleston had decided to do it in proper exam conditions.

Chris was in the middle of reading through work of T.S. Elliot, when Tom entered, and he mentally cursed. Now, when he needed to concentrate, Hiddleston had to dress in something as distracting as waistcoat. That just wasn't fair. And considering what had happened...well that just made it even harder.

The lecture was quick but there were given lots of revision notes and past papers, it didn’t look like Chris or Scarlett would be going out again for a while.

"Any plans for today?" Scarlett turned to him as they were packing up their things.

"Not exactly," Chris shook his head. "I think I'll just go through the work, or go to the beach and surf." He said and smiled at the idea; the waves and water would definitely help him to clear his head and improve his mood.

"Do you guys have rehearsal today?" Scarlett checked.

"There shouldn't be one," Chris shook his head and waited for Scarlett to take her bag, then headed to the door. "Unless there are some changes. We should be having more rehearsals at Cumberbatch's place, so I don't know."

"Well find out," she said, "because if you do we'll have to go to the beach tomorrow."

Chris wanted to say something to stop her, but Scarlett was already standing next to the professor's desk, waiting for him to ask.

"Mr Hiddleston?" Chris asked, hiding his nervosity. "Is there rehearsal today?"

"A short one, if you can make it."

"We'll go to the beach tomorrow then," Scarlett said. "Thank you professor."

Chris smirked at the bit at irony in her tone. "And where is it?"

"Kenneth's house actually, I mean Professor Branagh's," Tom corrected quickly, "but we're meeting at the theatre before hand."

"Okay," Chris nodded and looked down. "Well see you later..."

Tom just nodded and smiled at them both. 

"Bye Professor," Scarlett said and they headed out.

Chris wasn't paying too much attention to what Scarlett then began to say admittedly, already concerned about rehersal being awkward. Should he try and avoid the Professor? Would he try and avoid him?

Lunch went by quickly, Evans drinking three whole milkshakes himself and Robert balancing three spoons on his face.

"Come on, let's head off," Natalie nudged him as it was getting later.

"Yep," Chris nodded and stood up, taking his rucksack. "I'll see you tomorrow guys." 

Robert let the spoons fall off his face with a loud clatter. "Gotta tell us what Branagh's house looks like!" 

"Will do, mate," Chris chuckled and followed Natalie outside.

"You feeling any better?" Natalie asked.

"Not exactly." Chris shook his head. "But we talked."

"Oh?" She bit her lip, "about what happened?"

Chris hummed in agreement. "And I guess that‘s it." 

"That's it..." she sounded a little disappointed. "You're not going to try it out?"

"I don't know..." Chris sighed, glancing at his feet. "It could've been cool I guess, but...maybe it's just a physical attraction."

"Well if you've liked him for this long...I doubt that's all it is," she sighed in turn. "It'll be okay."

"It's more just unbearably awkward now." Chris smirked sadly. "Worse seen as we can’t avoid one another completely, if I could just not see him ever again, it would be easier."

"But would you want that? To never see him again?"

"It would be easier for both of us." Chris said. "...But no. I wouldn't," he admitted truthfully; he really couldn't imagine waking up to his lectures; knowing he'd never see that bright smile, those eyes that held a colour which just can't be named, or hear that smooth honeyed voice. As crazy as it might've been, Tom had created a part of his life here in England, and he didn't want that piece to miss.

"Well then, don't let the opportunity slip away," Natalie smiled.

Chris nodded. He appreciated Natalie's words, it was good to hear them from someone else’s perspective as well, rather than just his own; even though Natalie didn’t know the most vital piece of information about this person. He still wasn't sure if Tom was interested even, at least half as much as Chris was, or if the balcony kiss was just a slip of his drunken mind. And even if he was, could something like that even work between a professor and his student?

Students were bustling into the theatre as they arrived, Ben ushering them in. Chris was very much torn from his thoughts.

"Excellent. Chris, Natalie, welcome, well I guess we're complete now..." Benedict said, counting them quickly. "As you've already heard, today's rehearsal is going to be at professor Brannagh's place, so I hope you'll all behave."

"Okay, I’m sure we all will," Natalie nodded smiling, "I heard he lives in a mansion."

"Not quite," Benedict chuckled. "Hiddleston is making a room ready for us now."

"Something special then?" One of the boys asked, while Chris was glaring down on his feet, almost disappointed that Tom wouldn't go there with them.

"Dancing," Benedict smiled.  
Some of the students rolled their eyes and made a sound of disapproval at the new information, but mostly it just created excited interest.  
"Well now, we don't have a lot of time to spare, so go, everybody to the bus stop! It's just two stops, so don't forget to get off please." Benedict commanded and they got on their way.

They weren't _too_ rowdy on the bus and got off at the right stop with no trouble. Well, almost no trouble.

"Wow, it is a mansion..." Natalie's eyes widened as they walked up the drive of the house.

"How can one afford this from teacher's pay?" Chris breathed.

They stopped before the dark wooden door and Benedict rang the bell, turning to them with almost proud smile, as if the whole house reflected the English department in some way. There could hear footsteps echoing as someone approached the door.

"His wife is some actress or something," Natalie muttered, "or maybe it's a director...I dunno."

They were lead inside, the walls tall and curving. The furniture grand, though so very Kenneth; everything endearingly rough around the edges.

"Ben, hello," Kenneth welcomed them with a wide smile. "Leave your shoes and coats here,” he informed the students. “ We cleaned the living room for you. Is it still cold out there?" he asked, waiting for them all to slip off their shoes and jackets.

"Oh, yes," Benedict nodded, taking off his gloves. “Freezing.”

"Brilliant, Tom's prepared some hot chocolate for you all, so please do come in."

The living room was huge, seeming even larger as most of the furniture was pushed to the sides to make space. Tom was just carrying a final tray in to add to the collection of steaming mugs in the corner; the liquid in them chocolate coloured and creamy.

Chris couldn't but think how strange it was that, somehow, Tom fitted into this environment of luxuriousness and simply _big_ modern houses far more that Kenneth did, with his bright smile, the oven gloves on his hands and his always present, well-ironed suit.

They all took a seat on the big couch and pillows surrounding on the ground, taking the mugs carefully and nursing them in their hands, while Tom was briefly showing Benedict where they'd put the CD player and how he thought it'd be best to start.

Natalie sipped at her hot chocolate, "hm, this is so good perhaps the best I've ever had."

Chris blew some of the hot steam away and tasted it as well. "Yeah, this is quality."

"Just like the house," she grinned.

"Alright," Benedict turned to them, rubbing his hands. "Continue drinking your hot chocolates, meanwhile I'll be telling you something. We are here today, because professor Brannagh here-"

Some of the students clapped their hands. "Very funny," Benedict smirked. "He offered his house so we could try the big dance number, with all of the cast, seen as we can’t all practise in the theatre as it isr. Of course, if everything goes as it should, we'll have the local theatre booked for our play and will be able to try it out there as well before the show, but for now I think this will do."

"We'll need to work on everyone's dancing from last time," Tom said. "By the end we should all be perfect, I'm sure of it."

"We could maybe start in groups?" Benedict looked at Tom with a shrug. "See what you've forgotten, and think of the final choreography."

"Excellent," Tom nodded. "We'll worry about partners later."

Benedict nodded and went to crouch down next to the CD player, preparing the right song. Kenneth took a seat by the fireplace; watching them dance with a mildly amused expression.

"Shall we?" Natalie stood and held out a hand.

"But the chocolate." Chris made a puppy eyes at her, but still took the offered hand and stood up, walking with her to the centre of the room.

"There will always be chocolate," she laughed.

"Brilliant," Benedict smiled as he walked past them, now dancing far smoother than they had before. Chris wasn’t even treading on Natalie’s toes to begin with.

"See?" She smiled, "we're not so bad."

"No, probably not," Chris grinned. They copied more of the other’s moves, the one where they let go of their hands and walked around the other, backs close, then bowed before going back to the basic pose. Natalie was smiling at him warmly, and Chris tried to keep her gaze, but couldn't not to glance at Tom at some points. 

"You okay?" Natalie cocked her head, "you seem distracted."

Chris looked at her as if he didn't know what she was talking about. "No, nothing. Just trying to concentrate on not-stepping on your feet this time." He grinned.

She chuckled, "it's okay, I'm used to it." 

"Very nice!" Benedict said when the song finished and they stopped dancing. "You two will need just a little bit more refined still, but I think you're good. Just keep up the hard work."

"Thank you," Natalie beamed. 

"I think if anything you especially might need a little more practise," Ben said to Chris. "But we can sort that out."

"Okay, fine." Chris nodded, giving him a small smile.

Ben called for a break and everyone dispersed, heading for toilet trips or to eat more of the snacks available. 

Tom himself headed upstairs to the small library Kenneth had, it had been too long since he'd stepped foot in it.

"This looks good," Natalie commented, looking at a whole plate of big chocolate chip cookies. 

Chris hummed with a smile and took one, finding himself eating carefully, conscious of dropping crumbs. "And it tastes even better!" he smiled wide, crunching it in his mouth.

"This is turning out to be one of the best rehearsals ever," Natalie breathed.

"Yeah, hopefully we’ll come again," Chris nodding, finishing his cookie. "Think I've gotta check how his bathroom looks." He smirked at her, making Natalie roll her eyes. She just waved him off and Chris left, heading upstairs as he'd seen some of the other guys going the same direction.

Chris walked along the small corridor, thinking where the bathroom could've be; maybe he should have asked for the way. One of the doors to his left was left slightly open and he breathed in relief, glad he didn't have to go around gently prising every one open. He carefully peeked in, in case someone was in there and stopped when he saw he wasn't looking into a bathroom, but library, similar to the one Benedict had. Though this one was of course a lot bigger, and the bookcases themselves simply older.

There was someone in there as well as him, and it wasn't hard to guess who, especially when the red curls came to view. Hiddleston was weaving in between bookcases, his long, slender fingers tracing the spines of the books with light, careful touches, but not pulling any out; just smiling as he searched through the titles.

Chris smiled subtly at that, noticing the dreamy expression on Tom's face. There were footsteps coming up the stairs from behind him, and Chris couldn't think of anything better to do than to slip inside the library, closing the door behind him quietly.

Tom glanced up when the door fell shut, smiling lightly. "You lost?"

Chris shook his head, returning him the smile equally, but didn't dare to move from the door. "Hiding."

"Oh? okay," Tom ran a hand down another book, his smile having turned almost shy. "I do love it in here."

"Do you also have a room like this?" Chris asked, eyes wandering around the place. "It seems to be a thing among professors."

"Ah no, I don't have the space for such things," Tom shook his head. "I only live in a flat."

"That's a pity." Chris agreed. "I bet you'd know what to fill it with you you had one like this."

"Over time perhaps," Tom said. "But most of it would probably be Shakespeare and the like." 

"I figured." Chris’s expression was warm and he let out a small breath, eventually taking a few steps from the door to look at a book that was just lying on a table, gracing the edge of it’s cover with the tip of his finger."Without him it wouldn’t be a proper collection."

"Indeed," Tom chuckled softly and eventually pulled away from the book case a little.

"So..." Chris noticed when Tom moved from the bookshelf to opposite him a little, and took a deep breath before he continued, feeling a spark of nervosity within him. "When you said you've got a flat, that probably means we won't have rehearsals there, I guess?"

"There would hardly be space for everyone to fit in," Tom shook his head. "It's small, but that's the price of a sea view; I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"You live on the beach?" Chris asked in a surprise. "Oh, I would sell my soul for living even in a tent out there."

"Well, in an apartment block just on the beach side," Tom said. "But yes, it's nice to be close, good for runs."

"Yeah, that too." Chris smirked. "But mostly just the fact that there's an ocean right under your window."

"Perhaps I just don't appreciate what's right in front of me," Tom said, biting his lip; unintentionally catching Chris's gaze.

The Aussie held the eye contact, feeling his heartbeat increasing quickly. "And perhaps it's better that way," he said quietly. 

"Perhaps it is," Tom almost sighed and glanced down, "but there's been no suggestion of that yet."

"It's different for everyone," Chris shrugged and walked over to one of the bookshelves, pulling out a random book to flick through it, just to have something to occupy himself with; somewhere to look.

"Of course," Tom nodded, glancing at Chris's hands.

Chris nodded too, regarding the pages, then sighed and put it back on the shelf. He turned to Tom. "Sir if I- if I should go, just tell me."

"You're fine Chris," Tom assured him. "Absolutely fine."

"Oh?" Chris was surprised to hear that. "Okay."

"As long as you want to stay, that is," Tom added, realising that this was a metaphor for something else entirely.

Chris swallowed. "Yeah it's...it's nicely calm in here."

"Surprisingly so," Tom agreed, biting his lip.

"Well there's just us two," Chris pointed out as a fact and met the others gaze; there was something challenging in his eyes.

"There is," Tom graced the edge of the table with his finger. "How convenient."

He was now standing dangerously close to Chris. "Is it, sir?" He asked quietly, his voice breaking a little. "How come?"

Tom ignored the question and glanced up, "What do you want Chris?" 

The younger man blinked. "I-" he licked his lips quickly, not knowing what to answer. "I don't want anything."

"Nothing?" Tom checked, not quite sure if Chris was understanding what he was getting at.

"I don't want anything from you." Chris specified.

"Okay," Tom nodded, he almost looked disappointed. 

Chris noticed it. "Sir, I...I don't know what I can dare to do..."

"What do you want to do?" 

Chris looked down. He shuffled his feet and made a step closer, standing now right in front of the other. Eventually, he locked eyes with Tom, looking confused, and even a little scared. "What _can_ I do?"

Tom's throat went dry, "Right now, I think we've lost all boundaries." He watched with hitched breathing as Chris tilted his head likely, eyes never leaving Tom’s. “You’re sure of this, in this?“

"N-no," Chris stuttered. 

"We wont do anything if you're not," Tom said in a whisper.

Chris bit his lip. His hand was trembling when he rested it on Tom's chest, feeling the muscle tighten under the touch. "I'm okay."

"Okay," Tom cracked a weak smile. "That's good...this is..."

"Messed up," Chris smirked weakly. "I know." Then he leaned forward, and kissed him.

Tom responded immediately, his hands coming up to curl lightly around Chris's neck.

When he felt Tom answer, Chris felt as if a burden had lifted off of his chest, and he relaxed, hands moving to Tom's hips. This was much better than the first time; Tom's scent, the warmth of his hands on Chris's neck, the softness of his lips. It was all so real and vivid. Exactly how Chris had expected it to be.  
* It was languid, more gentle than before, not that Tom could remember but there was a vague echo in his mind now; this felt _familiar_. Tom felt himself smiling against Chris's mouth. 

Chris did the same, soon after they weren't even kissing, they were just grinning at each other with their noses touching.

Tom let out a soft, nervous chuckle, "hello."

"Hey," Chris opened his eyes finally, getting an amazing close up view of Tom's lips. 

"We should probably talk about this," Tom sighed quietly. 

The blond bit his lip and withdrew his hands slowly. "Let me guess. I'm your student, and I'm younger, and this was nice but that's all," Chris said, sarcasm creeping into his tone.

"No, it's not-" Tom sighed again, "we juts need to talk about it."

Chris looked at him a little questioningly. "Okay, fine," he pulled away entirely and leaned against the desk.

"I could lose my-no, I _would_ lose my job," Tom said. "I'm-"

"Come on you guys," Natalie was poking her head around the door. "We're starting again."

*

Chris twitched when he heard her voice. "Co-coming." He breathed and glanced up at Tom. They shared a look, obviously both thinking what could've happened if she had come in just a few seconds sooner.

"Thank you," Tom nodded as he walked through, Natalie holding the door open for them.

The second part of their rehearsal passed by slowly. Chris wasn't able to focus properly, and was making a lot of mistakes. The worst part of it was, that every time he glanced at Tom, the other was looking away, or trapped in conversation. He knew it was childish but he almost felt rejected.

Soon rehearsal was over and they were being ushered from Kenneth's house, wrapped up in coats and scarves. Ben announced something about costumes and the next rehearsal which was in the theatre, Tom was barely paying attention. 

It was only when Benedict wished them all goodnight and safe return home when Chris realised he and Tom would go the same way. He couldn't just go to Natalie's and sleep there, nonsense, and the others weren't that good friends for him to just tag along for beers or something.

"See you Chris," Natalie squeezed his arm and nodded to him before heading off in the opposite direction. 

"Bye," Chris said after her, even though she couldn't hear him already, and turned to look at Tom. He was talking with Benedict, recapitulating the rehearsal, and suggesting what they should do the next time. Chris decided to use that moment to disappear; gripping his rucksack tightly, he began to stride away, deep in his thoughts, that were all about Tom.  
He remembered their kiss, and how amazing it felt, even though at the same time it was almost incomprehensible. Chris thought about what Tom said too, how he could lose his job; something in his chest sink at that. It was the grim reality of it all, but still, it didn’t damped how he felt at all. Thinking back to their kiss again made something in Chris’s chest flutter.


	11. The date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long! Thank you so much for your comments, they're amazing :) x

Their next lecture was a long one, Tom had spent many days preparing for it. He couldn't jog in because it was snowing, rather heavily at that, and he didn't fancy being frozen. So he was forced to get the bus, folders clutched to his chest tightly where he sat.   
He was aware of the risk of seeing Chris with travelling by bus to the university, but he was still somewhat surprised when Chris got on few stops after him; headphones in his ears and a knitted hat on his head, the Aussie looked around the people on the bus briefly. Tom was sure he must have noticed him, but Chris made no movement towards him, nor did he meet Tom's eyes. He just remained in the gang way, seemingly oblivious.  
Tom wanted the floor of the bus to eat him whole. He acted so unprofessionally; he was an idiot. An utter idiot but kissing Chris at the last rehearsal had felt more right than it did wrong; and that in itself felt wrong entirely. Guilt bubbled up in Tom’s chest.

Finally, the bus arrived before the university, and Chris took off, quickly walking away.

Tom let out a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding and headed out too.  
When Tom arrived in the lecture theatre it was empty and he was relieved to find it that way, getting a chance to have everything set up and ready before the students arrived; it also gave him a chance to calm down. It was much needed quiet time.

*

Chris wasn’t in a rush today, taking his time purposefully before he finally met up with Scarlett and headed to the lecture with her.

"You okay?" Scarlett nudged him as they walked through the doors.

"Everybody keeps asking me that," Chris suppressed an annoyed sigh and smirked instead. "I must look like crap."

"You just look more like you're walking to your death than your lecture," Scarlett smiled. "I'm merely observing."

"Right, easy to do," Chris rolled his eyes and they walked through the door into the lecture theatre. Chris shot a quick glance to Tom, but cast his eyes to the ground again. He wasn't sure if he felt angry, disappointed or sad, but he knew he definitely didn't want to talk to him. Whatever Tom had said had confused him, and it practically felt like a rejection; then again, he thought bitterly, he was a student. There was no reason for him to expect anything. 

*

The lecture was long and by the end of it Tom was exhausted, he felt a slight pang of guilt whenever Chris glanced at him. Had he hurt his feelings? He wasn't sure...he just didn't want Chris to be ignorant of what they were doing; what the consequences could be. And he also certainly didn’t want himself to forget about them; the last thing Tom wanted would be to screw up his entire career on what was currently a whim.

He set them no work after the lecture so they were free to go.

"It was a pity you didn't out with us to the club last time," Scarlett told him when the lesson was over. "It was a great fun."

"I wasn't feeling well," Chris said apologetically. "But definitely next time."

Scarlett picked their assignments off the desk as they went out, "Thank you sir. Here's yours." She handed him his essay as they walked out.

"Thanks." Chris took the folder from her, glad he didn't have to interact with Tom, even with a little things like this. They walked out of the room, Scarlett disappearing with a mumble about coffee with Jeremy, leaving Chris on the corridor alone.

"Hey Chris!" Robert waved from the end of the corridor, Evans beside him with his art folder under his arm. "Lunch?"

Chris chuckled. "Do you guys ever do something else?"

"I value my food," Robert smiled. "And that pancake place has an offer on today."

"Pancakes?" Chris smiled. "Well then it's sorted." He nodded, put his essay into his rucksack, and followed them out.

Evans ate a giant stack of pancakes himself and Robert slightly less but he still managed a generous portion. He showed Chris his robotic arm, which was _nearly_ working; all gleaming metal and gears. A while later once they were done they parted with goodbyes, Robert hugging Chris before scampering off. Evans rolled his eyes fondly at his housemate’s antics.

Chris smiled at that. He quite liked the place; a homely, small dinner just a street from their university, so when the others left, he ordered some kind of British dessert with a lot of custard and put out his headphones, then even took out his essay to finally look through it.

A note fell out as he flicked through, small and covered in neat handwriting. 

Chris remained motionless, staring at the paper on the floor for a few seconds; he recognised the spidery handwriting very well. Then he realised someone could pick it up and quickly did so himself, looking around subconsciously before reading it.

Dear Chris,

I'm sorry if this note is not welcomed, I can only hope it is. If I did offend you or upset you at rehearsal I apologise, I was merely trying to explain and I was doing so very badly. We do really need to talk, and hopefully I could explain better. If you would like to meet up I'll be at the small coffee shop just on the corner of Thornbridge street, around three on Saturday. 

Perhaps see you then,  
Tom 

Chris was biting at his nails as he was read through the note, the hairs standing up on the back of his neck; there was a pang in his chest. He felt bad, Tom clearly hadn’t meant to upset him; he should have seen that. Quickly putting the paper back deep into his bag, he packed his things and headed home, not minding the untouched dessert.

Tom wanted to meet. Just the two of them in a cafe. Sitting at one table. Sharing a coffee and perhaps some food...so they could talk about 'their situation'. Chris sighed and turned the volume on his mp3 player up, hoping that the loud music would block out his thoughts. It allowed him a little escapism.

"Chris!" Liam bound up to him when he walked through the door, "check out what I did today!" A piece of paper was flashed in front of Chris's eyes.

Chris raised his hands in defeat and made a step back to clear his view. "Okay, Liam just let me-" he put his bag down and kicked off his shoes. "Okay what is it?" He smiled, taking the sheet of paper to look at it.

"I got science student of the term," he beamed. "They gave me a freddo and everything but I've already eaten that."

"You and science?" Chris held the paper up so Liam couldn't reach it and ruffled his short hair. "They must've made a mistake," He teased, keeping his tone serious and walked into the kitchen.

"No! Miss Hedge said it was because I did extra well on my exams," he pouted running after him.

"Are you sure?" Chris frowned and turned the paper upside down. "This seems fake to me..."

 

"No! It's not," Liam elbowed him lightly. "See, the head of science has signed it!"

"Maybe they want you so they can practise on you." Chris whispered to him with a grin, chuckling when Liam stole the paper back quickly.

"Christopher, stop making fun of your brother," His mother warned.

Liam stuck out his tongue then ran on upstairs.

"Good day?" His mother asked.

"Not that bad." Chris shrugged. "I had lunch with Robert- the robotic hand guy, and Evans. They showed me a nice dinner place."

"How lovely," his mother smiled. "And how is the work going?"

"Fine," He said lightly and went to sit at the kitchen table with a soft sigh, running a hand through his hair. "We have the costumes almost finished, the fight scenes are going well and all. And uni's okay."

"Oh good," she sighed contently. "I'm so glad you've made such good friends."

"Me too," Chris smiled and he meant it. "They're really great."

"Dinner will be ready soon," she said, "go tell your father would you?"

 

Dinner was rather lively for once, Luke returning home early from work and Liam proudly talking about his science lessons. Chris's father even looked less tired than usual, laughing as well as smiling. It was a nice family moment after a long time without such, so Chris tried to keep himself grounded and not let his thoughts wonder, even though it was still hard to do so, and focus on the conversation.

*

Tom was sat at the small café table feeling incredibly nervous, which he should have been; he was breaking so many rules doing this. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself and let out a sigh, what was he doing? He felt oddly subconscious, already regretting choosing somewhere public; but if he hadn’t then Chris would hardly have felt comfortable coming.

When Chris entered, at first he couldn't even see Tom, because he’d chosen a table further back in the shop, and even when he finally found him, sitting silently in his seat and looking quite nervous, Chris wasn't sure whether he shouldn't just turn around and walk away or got sit down.

Eventually, taking a deep breath, he stepped up to his table and cleared his throat to make him aware of his presence. "Um...sir."

"Chris," Tom greeted, smiling weakly. "You don't have to call me Sir here."

Chris took the seat opposite him with a subtle nod. "So am I supposed to call you 'Tom' now?"

"Well if not we could get very odd looks," Tom smirked subtly. "So Tom it is."

"Cool," Chris nodded, even though he was still unsure. He leaned his forearms on the desk and looked around. "...this is a nice place."

"Isn't it?" Tom almost sounded wistful. "Look, Chris-"

"Sir," Chris interrupted him. "Tom... If you wanna say that this is over, it’s cool, I'll just go. Didn't have to meet me here." He said and reached for his bag.  
"I didn't want to say that," Tom shook his head. "But if you want this to be over, then don't feel you have to stay."

The blonde paused, then leaned back to his chair. "What did you wanna say then?"

Tom let out a breath, "That I like you, in a way I really shouldn't as a teacher."

Chris swallowed. He somehow couldn't believe that Tom had actually made that step. "Guess we have the same problem," He smirked weakly.

"We do?" Tom tried not to sound too hopeful. "Really?"

Chris bit back a smile and leaned against the table again. "Yeah...really."

"Okay," Tom breathed out with a timid smile. "Wow, okay..."

Christ looked down. "...Is it safe for you to meet me here?"

"Not again," Tom bit his lip. "It's not just my job, Chris, the validity of your degree would be questioned."

"I know." Chris said quietly. "...But I still wanna give it a try."

"So do I," Tom murmured, glancing as someone walked past. "But we'll have to be careful."

Chris couldn't but grin with childish anticipation at the adventure of doing something forbidden. "What do you suggest?"

"I don't know..." Tom chewed his lip in thought, "we'd have to go to London or somewhere else to not be recognised."

"Like a date?" Chris smiled. "In London?"

"If you like," Tom found himself smiling in return. 

"Yeah. Yeah I would...when?" 

"Um...how’s Tuesday?" Tom asked. 

"Tuesday's great." Chris nodded. "Just don't give us any extra hard homework."

Tom chuckled softly, "I shan't. Tuesday it is then."

Chris looked at his hands on the table, feeling the warmth blooming in his cheeks. He felt like screaming, he just wasn't sure for what reason exactly. "...Where do we go from here?" He asked, looking around the caffee.

"Um...I hadn't really thought that far ahead," Tom said, not wanting to admit that he kind of expected Chris not to come at all. "But we'd best leave before we're expected to order something."

"Which would be a disaster," Chris grinned. "It's not exactly good weather, so...beach?"

"Lead the way," Tom nodded.

Chris nodded subtly in turn, took his rucksack and went outside, Tom following right behind. He didn't hang back until he was past the corner, there he stopped and waited for the other to catch up.

* 

They ended up perched on a boulder, the frothy waves tickling the edge of the rock, buried away into the crook of the cliff face; sat aside each other with their fingertips brushing. Tom leaned his head back with a sigh, the sea wind ruffling through his hair.

Chris closed his eyes for a while, enjoying the sound of the sea was rumbling right under them and how the breeze was cool as it washed through him. He turned his head and looked at Tom, loving the way his ginger curls were waving around his head.

Tom caught his gaze and then leaned forward, kissing him softly. He heard how Chris chuckled quietly over the sound of the sea and felt a hand winding gingerly into his hair. When they parted, Chris hummed, eyes still closed. "This is strangely peaceful."  
"I should be stressing out right now," Tom murmured, "but I don't know...I just feel calm if anything."

"I know that feeling."

The wind blew a little stronger this time as it whipped past them and Chris pulled away, turning to look around. When he assured himself they were really alone, and safely hidden in the cliff crook, he shuffled closer to Tom, taking his hand in his fully.

Tom smiled at the sight of their interlinked fingers, "this just feels right.“

"Perhaps it could be," Chris shrugged. "Even though it's probably too soon to say."

"Can I ask how long...?" Tom hesitated.

Chris covered his face with one hand and let out a whiny chuckle. "No, that's embarrassing."

Tom's brows rose in amusement, "okay then, I shan't ask."

"I might tell you, but it's just too soon now." He said. "And don't look so pleased."

"Very well," Tom smiled subtly and glanced out at the sea. "And I can't help it."

"And you?" Chris murmured, looking at him with a smirk. "Same question."

"After the club incident I was very confused," Tom confessed, looking down at their hands. "I sort of wished it was you before I even knew."

"That's nice. And creepy," Chris teased.

 

"I'm what, ten years older than you?" Tom said, "that's not creepy...is it?"

"No, of course not," Chris said quickly. "That's not what I meant. Wait, ten?" He chuckled. "What's with the goatee then?"

"Shaving is effortful and I always cut myself...hang on, how old did you think I was?"

"Eeeh, I don't know..." Chris shifted evasively and looked at him with innocent expression, "But you look good! It makes you look more...educated."

"Educated?" Tom echoed, "I'll take that as a compliment."

"You better do," He smirked. "It was."

"I will then," Tom chuckled softly, glancing down; the tide was almost at their feet. "We should probably go back...before the sea gets us."

Chris looked there as well and pulled his rucksack closer. "Yeah...it's not exactly good weather for swimming yet." 

They stood up and climbed back up over the boulders onto the promenade lining the beach.

"I'm sorry I've got to go," Tom sighed. "I have a stack of marking to get through."

"That's okay, I get it." Chris assured him with a small smile. "Tests are a real pain, huh?"

"Super fun," Tom hummed, "don't ever become a teacher."

"I'm enjoying it enough as a student, thank you," Chris laughed softly, then looked at Tom again. "So I'll see you on Monday I guess"

"Monday," Tom nodded with a small smile. 

There were a few people around them; some still on the beach, some walking on the promenade, and Chris wasn't sure what to do. Eventually, he nodded and wished him a good day before turning on his heel and got on his way home.

*

On his way back Tom had a spring in his step, feeling lighter almost; simply happier. He realised he'd been smiling the entire way home when he got in and his smile fell as he remembered the lovely pile of essays waiting for him on the table...he sighed; he couldn't wait for Monday. 

*

Chris spent the rest of Sunday in his room, playing music loudly and sometimes also singing along with it. He could hear Liam protesting ever so often, but no one came to tell him to turn it off. His mother was simply glad to see him in a truly good mood, most likely for the first time since they'd moved to Britain. 

It was raining almost the whole day, so everyone was at home, having a lazy day with movies, marshmallows and thick woollen socks. Chris noticed his mother was watching him with subtle smile several times, but he didn't comment on it, knowing he'd have to explain his good mood, and it was just a little too soon for that.

*

Monday was a little warmer so Tom jogged in, though now he was clad in full length trousers and a fleece; it was too cold to have any skin exposed still.  
He changed and was in the lecture hall in good time, his lecture ready and prepared and the work in a neat pile on his desk.

*

It was strange for Chris as he found himself almost wishing for the rain to start falling again as he was waiting at the bus stop. However, it didn't happen, so he was travelling to school alone once more. 

But what was even more unnerving was that he was about to see Tom- no, professor Hiddleston was his name here- at a lecture again; him a student, the other a teacher. He wondered whether there'd any change in their behaviour, if only something subtly, even though he knew there mustn't be.

*

Tom was grateful for his drama training, he could hide things fairly well; like the way he would no doubt beam when Chris walked in but instead he kept it to a polite smile. 

This was going to be harder than he thought.

He watched as Chris took his seat, pretending he was searching in his papers, and certainly not thinking about the red hoodie he was wearing, and how well it suited him.

*  
Chris caught his gaze at one point and held it for a moment, then went back to discussing something with Scarlett.

"Robert wants to go to some party tonight," Scarlett said, "you in?"

"Tonight?" Chris raised his brows. "Are you guys unable to party at the weekend or something? Don't wanna be knackered the next day."

"Don't feel you have to come," she smiled. "Evans isn't, and Mark certainly won't be."

"So it's basically just Robert trying to pull." Chris laughed

"Basically," Scarlett smirked. "God, he really needs someone."

"He's a big guy." Chris whispered, so he wouldn't disturb Tom's lecture. "he'll take care of himself. But I might go."

"See how you feel," she smiled and then turned back to the front.

Chris hummed instead of an answer and focused on the lecture again. Or more likely tried to, his attention towards the work often dragged away by his professor.

The lecture was over soon enough and Tom set a little work for next lesson. He even let them go early.

"I wonder what put Hiddleston in such a good mood," Scarlett smiled.

Chris smiled to himself, somewhat proud to think it was because of him. "Well, it certainly wasn't the weather."

Scarlett laughed softly, "no."

As they were descending the lecture hall steps and passing by Tom's desk, Chris just couldn't hold back his smile. Tomorrow afternoon, he'd be in London on a date with Tom. It still made him feel a little awkward, given that the other was older and his professor and so very different to what he guessed he’d expected but that was part of what was making Chris so curious; he couldn't wait to get to know him better.

*

Tom headed to rehearsal early that day, getting out swords and costumes for the evenings practise. It had stopped snowing and sleeting at least, the ground now just light coated with a layer of chilly slush.

Five minutes later, the door opened and Chris walked in, taking off his coat as he stepped into the pleasantly warm theatre, boiling in comparison to the frosty air outside "Good afternoon Sir." he nodded at Tom with a light smile and went to put his things on a chair.

"Afternoon," Tom smiled warmly in return, hanging up the rest of the costumes.

The blonde nodded and hopped on the stage, his hands buried in his pockets. "So...?" he made a few steps towards him, looking behind them to check whether there was someone backstage.

"Ben's not here yet," Tom told him when he noticed his wandering gaze. "Speaking of Ben, he adjusted your shirt..." he pulled it out. "It should fit now."

Chris’s brows rose and he walked over to his clothes. "Super, gotta try it on then," he took it with a giddy sort of feeling; the fact that they were making this play and going to actually perform it suddenly seeming more real.

"Hopefully it shouldn't be too tight now," Tom smirked gently and pulled out the last of the clothes.

"Hopefully, yes," Chris hummed and rubbed the back of his neck, then took the shirt with him into the back. Even when Tom could still no doubt see him he began pulling off his shirt before he reached the curtains, simply just to tease him a little.

Tom's brows rose and he quickly turned away, going about getting out the swords. 

Chris pulled the new shirt on. It was better than the last time, at least he didn't feel like it was squeezing him. "What do you think?" he shrugged when he returned.

"Much better," Tom nodded, "a proper Romeo."

"You'll make me blush," Chris chuckled.

Tom opened his mouth to say something but the doors opened and a pile of students hurried in, followed by Benedict.

Chris quickly glanced at him and then hopped of the stage, going to talk with Natalie as any normal day, proudly presenting his shirt. 

Benedict joined Tom on the stage, greeting him with a simple nod. "Oh, our Romeo...he looks better now, doesn't he?"

"You did a marvelous job," Tom grinned. "And Natalie's dress is simply wonderful."

"Don't forget one of the most important things was to get us the right Juliet and Romeo," Ben waved his hand. "And that was your job. Let's see how the others look in their costumes, shall we?"

"Yes, yes," Tom nodded with a small smile. "Then we'll need to practise fencing again."

Chris was just telling Natalie about the party tonight, when Benedict called them on the stage so they could start.

"Maybe we could do a quick balcony scene before?" Benedict suggested.

"Sure," Natalie nodded. "Sounds good."

"Okay," Chris nodded as well and went to kneel behind some cartoon bushes made of wood. He had to admit, Steve and the other art students had done a great job with the prop requests.

“Alright, when you're ready," Benedict called out.

They all fell silent and Chris started. He was surprised to find that he actually remembered most of the lines, and tried to mainly focus on his acting. He liked it, enjoying how he really felt his eyes wandering over the empty balcony, the way his smile crept on his lips when Natalie walked on the stage in her costume, looking truly amazing. 

He was by her side at just the right moment and as always, it wasn't a problem for them to speak their words of love to each other with such passion it was almost believable.

"That was fantastic guys, well done!" Benedict beamed, "now Natalie we'd like to do your scene with your handmaiden...Chris you won't be on for a little while so do take a seat."

"Oh okay," Chris breathed, grateful for the break. After all, it was exhausting to act with such realism for him; he was hardly used to it. 

He took a seat in the front row with a sigh, and took a bottle from his bag to take a sip.

Natalie and the other girl did their scene well, with only a few slip ups, Tom gave a thumbs up from the back at the end of a scene and they moved onto another with Juliet. 

Benedict announced that they were going to spend the rest of the evening practising sword fighting and that everyone could get stuck in, despite not everyone actually being in the scene. Chris and a boy were called to the side as they would have to learn a very particular fight; all their moves planned.

This time wasn't as amusing as before, given that all of their lunges had to be planned out so it would look good on the stage, but both the boys were managing quite well regardless; it was simply odd to lose all of their spontaneity.

Tom kept on having to straighten their backs and slightly adjust their moves but overall they were doing good and according to Ben it looked marvelous. 

"it's always interesting to see how they've managed to change, isn't it?" Benedict said to Tom. "They've all made such an improvement."

"It's wonderful," Tom hummed, his gaze lingering on one of them in particular.

"Chris, huh?" Ben smiled lightly when he followed Tom's gaze, not noticing how the other glanced at him, startled. "He's great, I've heard Martin saying he'd take him to his drama lectures if he weren't your student already."

Tom chuckled lightly, "I guess you never know."

They finished a few minutes later, both the professors looking rather satisfied with their performances.

After that Tom made an announcement, about the lack of funds and the fact that Branagh wanted them to charge the audience. He suggested everyone bringing in food and they seemed surprising eager, after breaking the news Tom was very much relieved.

"My mom makes great muffins," Natalie beamed at Chris, already dressed in their own clothes and taking their coats. "I'll ask her to help me make some. You could bring some traditional Australian food." 

"Yeah, that's not a bad idea actually," Chris agreed.

"Don't you have those sandwich things...?" She said, "with sprinkles?"

"We do! Those could have success I guess." he nodded and smiled. "You're awesome, thanks."

She rolled her eyes fondly, "aren't I just? How's your little problem, may I ask?"

Chris was still smiling and cast his eyes to the ground. "Better, I think. Definitely better"

"Good," she squeezed his arm. "See you on friday?"

"Hopefully sooner," He waved in goodbye.

"Perhaps," she nodding before heading out of the theatre.

Chris left with the others, following them to the bus stop. They said their goodbyes, most of them heading in the opposite direction, only a few of the boys waiting with Chris for their bus to arrive.

"Go without me," Chris said when the bus stopped by them, "I think I forgot my phone." When they left, he buried his face into the scarf around his neck and waited.

"Chris?" Tom's slightly surprised tone echoed from behind him, "hasn't a bus already been?"

He looked up quickly. "Actually yeah, I just- sorry I'm waiting here, it's just that I don't have lectures tomorrow and I thought it would be just stupid for me to be waiting around the university in the afternoon..." He explained confusedly.

"It's okay," Tom smiled warmly. "Do you still want to go out tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Chris nodded. "You don't?"

"Of course," Tom said quickly, "I just thought I'd...there's a train going to Victoria Station at half eleven, if that works for you?"

"Sure." Chris said. "I'll just have to recall the way to the train station."

"I would go there with you but-" Tom stopped himself, it didn't have to be said. "How about you call me if you can't find it?"

"I will." Chris assured him. "...how about we meet in London?" he asked, hoping that would make it easier for Tom. "At the station?"

"That might work better," Tom agreed, "we could meet...at say twelve?"

"Of course. Should I take the earlier train?" Chris asked seriously, but it came out more like sarcasm. He quickly shook his head. "Sorry, I- didn't mean it like that."

"I think we can catch the same train," Tom assured him with a small smile. 

"Okay," The boy nodded quietly. "The train at half eleven."

"Yes," Tom breathed, "I'll see you then."

They would've been waiting for the bus together, but Chris didn't feel like it. He had a feeling he'd said enough today, and giving Tom a short smile, he headed home. 

*

Tom didn't get much sleep that night, another one of his sisters had called him around midnight in tears; something to do with a boy and a bad break up. He consoled her till around three, till she'd eventually stopped crying; he hoped she felt better but by the time she hung up he was mostly relieved. Gods did he need sleep and he would sure need a lot of coffee in the morning. 

Regardless, he managed to get up in time, and after drinking a bucket of strong coffee, he headed to school, not even thinking of jogging today. The weather was more favourable than yesterday, so he pulled on his sweater, leather jacket and scarf on, hoping that would be enough layers.

It was a second year class he was lecturing, they were competent and he had to do little for them; the lesson itself ended with plenty of time for him to get to the station. Afterwards Tom was in a far better mood, he even managed to buy another coffee before buying his ticket and boarding the train. 

When he took a seat and the train started moving, he couldn't help but search for Chris among the people in his carriage, but he couldn't see him anywhere. He got a little nervous; he didn't even have Chris's number after all, so he couldn't call him if he missed the train, or changed his mind.

Tom lent back with a small sigh and pulled out his book to start reading, though he could barely focus on the words; his heart was racing. What was he doing? Was he an idiot? Yes, yes he really was. This was...Tom didn't do things like this; not ever. It felt thrilling and horrible at the same time but more exciting than anything else.

He finished his coffee and settled for staring out of the window.

The train arrived at Victoria Station on time. Tom put the book back into his bag, and got off with the other passengers. Tom was still a little early so he found a bench in the station in an area with shops, it was teeming with people; he liked it. He felt less exposed with the massive crowd hiding him.   
The huge clock in the station was showing fife past twelve when Tom got really nervous. Maybe he shouldn't be sitting here, maybe Chris just can't find him where was. He stood up, but sat down quickly again. He couldn’t start wandering around the whole station, they would just be constantly missing each other forever. Tom grumbled and forced himself to read, then his sister called him again much recovered from last night and they talked for a while but still...no sign of Chris. 

What if he changed his mind? Tom chewed on his lip, suddenly realising what a fool he was; sitting on a bench in London, waiting for his student to turn up and go on a secret date with him. He had to take a deep breath to calm himself. Honestly, he couldn't even blame Chris for changing his mind. It must've seemed so weird to him when-

"Hey," someone breathed next to him and Tom looked up to see Chris. His hair was dishevelled, cheeks a little red and he was panting.

Tom couldn't help but smile in relief, "hello...are you quite alright?" 

"Yeah, cool," Chris breathed again heavily and slumped down on the bench beside him, pushing the hair off his face. "I just got off of the train and realised we didn't agree where exactly we should meet, so I was standing there for some time, but couldn't see you anywhere, and I figured you might be somewhere else. So I went to look around, and then I noticed some tall ginger guy passing by, and I followed him all the way to the exit before I realised it wasn't you. God I must've looked like such a creep, but I got kinda lost and it took me some time before I found a way back, and finally spotted you." He exhaled and lent his head back with an exhausted sigh.

"Sounds like quite an escapade," Tom chuckled lightly. "Shall we get some food? After that you must be starving." 

"That sounds good, yeah." Chris nodded. He gave one last tired huff and got up onto his feet. "Could you please lead the way?"

"Of course," Tom stood and began to weave through the crowd with practised ease. "How many times have you actually been to London?"

"The first time was with you, at the Tempest" Chris said. "We had a lot of work with settling down I guess, but mom promised us to take us here sometime."

"Oh wow, well I suppose you haven't had much opportunity," Tom said, "I went to university here, so it's sort of like a second home."

Chris shook his head. "No I haven't. So I'm counting on your experience."

"Well I assure I know where I'm going," Tom lightly tugged on his wrist to pull him round a corner. 

Chris smiled at the touch and gladly followed him. "So where are we going?" he asked. "Some really well known place? Or something very British?"

Tom smirked softly, "somewhere quite British." 

"Right..." Chris nodded. "I suppose that's the only hint I'll get."

"It's a small place, I used to go there a lot," Tom hummed at the memory. "I'm sure you'll like it."

"A lot when you were studying here?" Chris asked with interest. "What made you change London for Brighton?"

"The airs breathable in Brighton for a start," Tom said, "and the living costs here are insane. Not that Brighton's cheap...besides, I was offered a job by Brighton university; I could hardly refuse."

"I get it." Chris nodded and smirked. "Moving because of a job is very common these days."

"That's why you moved?" Tom asked gingerly. 

"Yeah, dad got some offer in the city centre, said it was an offer of a lifetime, so we packed our things, and left within two weeks," Chris explained with a shrug.

"That quick?" Tom frowned subtly, "I'm sorry Chris I had no idea, I would never have given you so much work at the start..."

"What?" Chris raised a brow at that. "It was hardly your fault, you don't have to apologise for being a teacher."

"Still," Tom sighed and smiled weakly, finally they were out of the station. "Do you want to get the tube or do you not mind walking?"

"Walking's okay," Chris affirmed. "At least I'll get to see the city a bit."

"Walking it is," Tom nodded, leading them down a street. He glanced up when white shapes began to flutter in and out of his vision, "it's snowing."

Chris followed his gaze and grinned when one of the snowflakes fell right into his eye. "It's end of January," he pointed out. "That's so cool"

"Sometimes it snows till March," Tom smiled, "you didn't get much snow I'm guessing?"

"There is snow in Australia," Chris shook his head and looked around. He had to smile when he saw some of the people already opening their umbrellas. "but no, not much."

"It's just round the next corner, " Tom said, brushing the snow out of his hair.

"What part of the city is this anyway?" Chris asked as they walked. The pavement got a bit thinner at one point, and as they were passing by a man walking in the opposite direction, Chris had to make a step closer to Tom, then stayed that way. "Somewhere I could know?"

"No where special," Tom said, voice full of nostalgia. "The food just is."

"The most important part then," Chris said with sincerity.

"Here we are," Tom lightly touched his wrist again to pull him to a stop. It was a modest cafe, a good few people teeming in and out. 

"Looks nice," Chris smiled, looking up at the sign. He pushed the door opened and walked in, holding it for Tom as well.

Tom nodded in thanks, sighing at the warmth of the cafe. There was a heavenly smell of baking and coffee in the air, it was truly an idyllic setting, "Upstairs is better," he murmured to Chris and led them up a small flight of stairs. Little fairy lights were wound about the banister.

They walked up to the second floor where there was less people around and Tom went to one particular table at the back. Chris tried to not let himself worry when Tom did but it did make him a little concerned to think that Tom might still be self-conscious all the way out here but then again it at least gave them more privacy. Regardless, it was still incredibly early days.

Tom slumped down in a chair chair, yet still his movements appeared somewhat graceful, letting out a content sigh; running a hand through his damp hair. 

Chris took the opposite seat and hanging his jacket over the back of the chair. "Not exactly the best weather for a trip, huh?" He pointed out with small smirk, resting his forearms on the table.

"No but...snow is nice," Tom smiled. "Brings out the best in everything."

"Must be awesome to be such an optimist," Chris smiled back at him.

"I don't really understand how a person can survive being anything else," Tom said quietly. "How person can really live like that."

"It's more about the surroundings and others." Chris said. "I've always been told that one's personality is affected by that a lot."

"I must have been lucky then," Tom smiled lightly, "want me to order?" He offered when a waitress approached them. 

"Um, yes, sure." Chris shrugged. "I'm quite easy, I'll eat anything."

Tom ordered two house specials and two coffees, it was odd the way the waitress smiled at them; she knew they were on a date. She didn't even know them...but Tom still felt watched, though he knew out here he was anonymous, he should feel invisible. Yet he couldn’t help but feel a little exposed, as if everyone secretly had their eyes on them.

"Tom?" Chris asked shyly and slightly tilted his head. "You okay, you seem a little lost in thought..?"

"Right, sorry," Chris's voice dragged him back. "I, um, do that a lot.."

"Interesting," He smirked. Chris bit his lip, deliberating, then reached out and touched the back of Tom's hand with his finger tips. "You're worried, right? 'bout this."

Tom, almost to his own surprise, relaxed greatly at the touch, visibly so. "It would be a stupid of me not to be," he said gently. 

Chris’s thumb drew soothing circles on the back of Tom’s hand. "Sorry, I've always been a bit of a troublemaker."

Tom smiled at the touch, "oh? I would have never guessed."

Chris raised his eyebrow. "You were the one fixing this."

"And you were the one who left a love bite on my neck," Tom pointed out. 

Chris chuckled and looked down. "Yeah...there was that, too."

Tom raised his hand and loosely interlinked their fingers together, "It's a good thing you did."

"Think so," Chris nodded and looked at him with a light smile.

They were interrupted when the waitress came back, giving them their ordered coffee and plates. She smiled warmly at them and disappeared again; a knowing look in her eye. Not that either of them noticed.

It was some form of club sandwich, though of course gourmet style; with perfectly crisp bacon and lush green lettuce. Reluctantly they had to part hands to eat their food, though even after they pulled away Tom's fingers were still tingling. 

"It looks great," Chris commented, he took the sandwich in both hands and ate a bit; grinning at the taste.

"I used to live off this," Tom said, "this and hobnobs essentially."

"Not one for cooking, huh?" Chris smirked when he swallowed. "But I get it. These are tasty,"

"I can't really cook...baked potatoes though. I can cook those perfectly," Tom said, almost sounding proud. "Everything else...not so much."

"There's the reason why you're so skinny," Chris teased. "Makes sense now."

"I can't help it," Tom almost pouted. "Being so tall."

"I'm almost as tall as you," Chris beamed at him and sipped his coffee. "That's hardly an excuse. It's the running. That and poor eating."

"My lifestyle is fine," Tom smirked. 

"Wait till you try some of my mom's cuisine." Chris shook his head. "Gotta bring you something sometime."

"Okay..." Tom conceded, "I look forward to it."

They ate the rest of their sandwiches mostly in silence, though in comfortable one. At some point their legs just tangled together underneath the table, but neither seemed to mind. Their plates were taken away, ice cream ordered and their hands found each other over the table again; fingers meshed together. The conversation flowed easily, Tom telling Chris about his life in London, Chris talking about Australia. They laughed at Chris' story about Luke and a kangaroo, and agreed that Al Pacino's movies are great. They were interrupted just once, when Chris's mobile rang and he had to pick it up, to explain his mother he was safe and that everything was okay. 

"Sorry," He shook his head and put it back in his pocket again. "She's just worries too much sometimes."

"It's okay, I've been there," Tom smiled knowingly. 

Chris shrugged, his hand finding Tom's for the third time. "Mothers I guess...speaking of which," he squeezed his hand. "How's your sister?"

"She's okay now, they're trying again," Tom smiled faintly. "And I had the other up with me till three because of a failed relationship."

"...Emma, right?" Chris asked unsurely. "Aren't you tired then? You probably haven't slept a lot."

"I have consumed copious amounts of caffeine," Tom shrugged, "I'm fine."

"Okay. But if you want to go, we can go, there'll be other occasions..?" He said but the last few words sounded more like a question.

"If you want," Tom smiled. "No, really, I'm good."

"Cool," Chris nodded, assured, and rubbed the palm of Tom’s hand with his thumb. "It's still snowing..."

"You want to go out in the snow?" Tom asked. 

"Sure," Chris grinned. "Bet it's all 'Love actually' out there."

"Well let's go see," Tom smiled in return and moved to shrug on his jacket. They split the bill, despite Tom’s protests; Chris managing to convince him that he really didn’t mind at all.

Chris felt like a child as they headed outside, he was two steps ahead, and eagerly walked out, looking around at the light dust of snow on the street and cars around with wonder.

"God, I love this," he chuckled.

"Well now we get it for a least a whole month a year," Tom smiled, following on behind as he tied his scarf around his neck. "So you're in luck."

"Must be," Chris smiled back at him. "Come on, I wanna see the river again."

"Okay, round that corner there," Tom gestured with his hand.

They walked down the street, and soon after Chris recognised the waterfront. He smiled wide at Tom and went to lean over the railing, watching the snowflakes melt in the turbid waves. 

Tom lent on the railings next to him, glancing down, "we can walk along the waterfront, if you like?"

"That's okay," Chris said and nudged him lightly with his side. "I'm fine here."

"Okay," Tom smiled subtly, glancing down though admittedly his attention was more focused on Chris than the snow.

The Aussie looked at him, raising a teasing brow when he met Tom’s gaze; he waited for him to turn his head and then Chris softly kissed his lips.

Tom returned the kiss languidly, a hand bunching in Chris's shirt. 

Then they turned, Chris leaning his lower back against the guardrail with his arms wrapped around Tom's middle, deepening the kiss.

Tom's own arms moved to hang loosely around Chris's shoulders, his fingers tangling in his hair;Tom smirked against Chris's mouth when there was a wolf whistle in the distance.

"Idiots," Chris murmured, pulling away ever so slightly to look at him.

"We are essentially making out in the middle of the street," Tom said

"Well," Chris shrugged, a playful glint in his eye. "you might have a point, yeah."

"Come on," Tom tugged his hand, "let's go somewhere less exposed."

"Fine, fine." Chris laughed and followed him on, not letting go of Tom's hand. They smiled at each other softly and somehow still a bit shyly as they walked beside the river; there was this nervous but excited energy between them, making them both feel giddy. A thicker layer of snow was now building up on the ground and it crunched lightly under foot as they walked. Chris squeezed Tom’s hand lightly at one point and the other squeezed back.

"Does a park sound good?" Tom suggested after a little while.

"Yeah," Chris said only.

They crossed the street and walked for a few minutes more, before the park came into view. The grass was frozen, the pathways coated generously in the snow; the only green patches were the spots that encircled the trunks of trees.

Tom pulled Chris along off of the path and underneath a tree out from under the snowfall, and far enough away from the pathway to be considered private. 

Chris had to laugh at that, clutching Tom's jacket. "That is so subtle!"

"Isn't it just?" Tom smirked against his mouth before walking until his back was against the tree, pulling Chris to him. 

They kissed with Chris's hands resting against the tree on each side of Tom's shoulders, their bodies pressed together. Tom's hands were round his neck to hold him close, humming into the kiss.

At one point, Chris broke the kiss, moving his lips to Tom's jaw, pressing soft kisses to his beard and down his neck; but he didn't dare make a hickey again. His hands travelled from the trunk to Tom's sides, stroking lightly up and down.

Tom sighed contently and tilted his head back to give Chris better access, so Chris kissed down as far as the scarf around Tom's neck allowed him to, feeling his heartbeat increasing dangerously. Reluctantly, he pulled away to look at the other.

Tom smiled breathlessly, his and Chris's noses brushing. "Wow."

"Yeah," Chris agreed and swallowed, Tom's breath hot against his lips. "Guess we should take a break."

Tom chuckled weakly, "probably for the best, maybe we should...walk some more."

"Good idea," Chris nodded and pulled away. He adjusted his jacket and smoothed down his hair a little, clearing his throat, then looked at Tom, smiling. "But wow."

"Wow indeed," Tom kissed him chastely in agreement and then took his hand in his own as they walked back onto the path.

Chris squeezed his hand lightly. "So is there any other great places you can take me? It's quite fun to experience London in the not-touristic sort of way."

Tom bit his lip in thought, "hmm, there are a few places but the snow makes it's hard...how about just seeing the city?"

"That's just fine," Chris nodded, smiling lightly.

Tom led them off down many side roads after they broke out of the park, up and through winding streets, keeping hold of his hand the whole time.

He told Chris different stories for very significant place they passed; of London, events that's happened in the places they were passing by, of stories he recalled, and Chris mused how it was possible for someone to have such knowledge and talk so grippingly; he listened to him wordlessly, simply enjoying his company.

Eventually Tom paused by the back entrance of an old, large building; nudging open the exit door, explaining how they never bothered to lock it. It was the theatre he'd acted in, in his one year of drama school. He led them up a flight of stairs, only stopping once they reached the top and opened the door to the roof.

"A roof?" Chris chuckled. He resisted the urge to make a joke about it being cheesy and followed Tom across the concrete. "Oh wow," he breathed with wide eyes, looking around as he took in the view.

"I thought it would be the easiest way to show you everything," Tom smiled at the view, the main landscape of London stretched out before them in all it’s splendour.


	12. Juliet's balcony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cannot apologise enough for the delay. We both had exams and it took us a while to get back into the swing of things. x

"A roof?" Chris chuckled. He resisted the urge to make a joke about it being cheesy and followed Tom across the concrete. "Oh wow," he breathed with wide eyes, looking around as he took in the view. 

"I thought it would be the easiest way to show you everything," Tom smiled at the view, the main landscape of London stretched out before them in all it’s splendour. 

"Yeah, it’s a damn good idea," Chris turned to him. "I don't think I've ever seen a city this way before." 

"Come on," Tom gently tugged him along to the edge, a small rail separating them from the fall, he leaned an arm against it. 

Chris let out a light, soft laugh and clenched the rail, leaning over it to look down. The snow tumbled down across his gaze onto the whitening streets below. 

"It is beautiful," Tom breathed. 

"Thanks for bringing me here," Chris said instead of a proper reply and straightened up again. He pointed into the distance with a childish smile. "I can see Big Ben from here!" 

Tom smiled at his obvious excitement and then pointed out some more landmarks, some famous others not so much but with a few there was a story too along with them. 

At first Chris was looking at the things Tom had been showing him, but then his eyes drifted to Tom's face and stuck. He watched his gentle eyes crinkle at the edges as the small yet dreamy smile curled onto his lips and the way his eyebrows rose every time he recalled another tale, and Chris smiled lightly himself in turn. 

Tom caught Chris's gaze and realised he was looking at him rather than the view and smiled almost shyly in return; feeling his cheeks grow a little warm...though that could have just been from the cold. 

Chris looked away quickly and chuckled nervously. "Sorry, shouldn't be staring...I swear I pay more attention during your lectures." 

"No, it's...fine," Tom smirked subtly, "well going by your work you do." 

"I'm glad we moved here," the Aussie pushed the damp hair off of his forehead. 

"Really?" Tom’s expression lit up, "well I'm glad you're glad." 

"Well, y'know..." Chris shrugged, grinning. "Could've been worse that this." 

"Very true," Tom chuckled lightly. "I just hope you continue to like it here." 

"Sure. You could help me with that," Chris smirked at him. 

"Oh? Okay," Tom sent him a playful look. "Hopefully I can manage that." 

Chris turned back to him and ran his fingers through Tom's hair, smiling subtly in return. "You're doing just fine," he assured him. 

"Oh good," Tom lent into the touch. "And I will try my best not to distract you in lectures." 

"That would be lovely, thanks mate," Chris grinned and traced his cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, cupping his cheek. 

Tom tilted his head at the touch and kissed his fingers, "no promises though." 

Chris chuckled and pulled him into a kiss, hands threading in Tom's hair. He smirked against his lips and made a step forward, away from the edge of the building. 

Tom's hands ended up braced against his chest, Chris's shirt slightly damp from the snow. 

"It's gettin' cold," Chris whispered, hands falling to Tom's pinkish cheeks. 

"Perhaps we should head home," Tom sighed. "Before we can't actually get home." 

"How are we going to do it?" Chris pulled away, taking Tom's hand in his and walked to the exit. "The way back I mean," he waited till Tom closed the door of the roof again, and they headed down the stairs. 

"I'm pretty sure we can sit next to each other on the train back," Tom smiled. 

* 

 

The way back home seemed too short to the both of them. Tom had picked seats in the less crowded part of the train, and they spent the time talking whilst holding hands, watching the landscape and exchanging chaste kisses. Chris didn't mind some of the people eyeing them. He even leaned closer to Tom, a satisfied smirk on his lips. 

"I don't want to actually arrive home," Tom murmured, squeezing his fingers. 

"Me neither," Chris answered. "But I'm looking forward to my lectures." 

"I wonder why," Tom's smile was a fond one. 

"Because I love English literature so much, of course," Chris teased. 

The train stopped and they both sighed, exchanging a sad smile. 

Tom leaned forward to kiss him one last time, "I'll see you on thursday." 

"Definitely," Chris agreed, closing his eyes briefly at the kiss to savour it. "Go, I'm giving you a two minute head start." 

Tom squeezed his hand again before reluctantly letting go and standing, giving Chris a small smile before going on ahead. 

Chris sighed, running hand through his hair. He was still a little damp, but Tom’s touch still lingered on his skin; his fingertips tingling. He smiled to himself, biting his lip as he watched the people pass by absentmindedly before he stood up and left the train as well, just as the clock on the station started to announce six pm. 

"Chris! You're soaked!" His mother exclaimed as he walked through the door of their home, "where have you been all day?" Her voice was full of worry, her eyes a little wide. 

"The London trip lasted longer than expected, sorry." His brows furrowed apologetically and he shrugged off his jacket. "It started snowing." 

"How was London then?" She smiled, calmer now. "Good?" 

"Great," he beamed, not even attempting to hide his good mood. "Actually pretty awesome." 

"Who did you go with again?" 

"One friend." He shrugged and tried to change the subject. "You don't know him. Do we have something to eat? I'm starving." 

"Dinner will be ready soon," she nodded. "But Liam brought home some muffins he made at school." 

"It’s okay, I’ll save myself for some proper food," Chris said, and grinned when his mother slapped his shoulder lightly. "Okay, okay, I'll just go put some dry clothes on," he laughed and ran up the stairs to his room. 

"He's all smiley again," Liam commented from the kitchen. "Must be Juliet girl." 

"Be glad your brother is happy, Liam." Their mother reminded him. "And help me set the table, will you?" 

Laim pouted and did as he was told. "Yes mum..." 

Chris slumped down on his bed, hugging his arms around his middle as he sighed contently, closing his eyes. Tom's delighted expression lingered behind his eyes, and he could still feel the touch of the other’s hand on his. He shook his head and chuckled quietly to himself. God, he really had it bad. 

* 

As soon as Tom got home he realised his phone was vibrating in his bag, "Ben?" 

"Tom! You haven't been picking up all day..." 

"Sorry," Tom bit his lip. "I've been out." 

"Really?" Benedict sounded unconvinced. "Interesting." 

"Is everything okay?" Tom checked. 

"Apparently." He could practically hear Ben’s smirk. "Not everything, I wanted to ask you to come over and look at my book, I made some progress, but you weren't at home, so nevermind." 

"I'm sorry Ben," Tom sighed, "how about tomorrow? This evening?" 

"It's alright," Benedict said. "Tomorrow's fine, stay home, this can wait a day." 

"Okay, sorry again," Tom toed off his boots. "I just forgot to turn my phone off of silent from the lecture." 

"What were you doing anyway, if you don't mind me asking?" Benedict asked and Tom could hear him pouring himself a cup of tea. 

"Just went to London for the day," Tom said. "Nothing else." 

"Always so secretive, Tom." Benedict chuckled. "Alright, you don't have to tell me anything, as long as you edit my work. I'll see youtomorrow. Good night Tom." 

"Night Ben," Tom smiled and hung up. 

*   
The next day, Chris went out with Evans and Jeremy, just to aimlessly wander around the city. They bought some mulled wine and sat down on a fountain in one of the squares; the cup warming Chris’s hands pleasantly. The wine was hot and spicy. 

"Come on," Jeremy grinned. "Someone we know?" 

"Guys, I really don't-" 

"So it is someone we know!" 

"Gives us a clue at least?" Jeremy beamed. 

Chris shook his head. "Guys..." he sighed when Evans looked at him with puppy eyes. "Okay it's someone from the Uni. But I won't tell you any more than that!" 

"The university is huge..." Jeremy moaned. 

"Okay, okay," Evans smirked. "You can tell us when you're serious." 

"Fine," Chris shrugged. "Maybe then." 

"Well work it out besides I'm sure," Jeremy nudged him. "Well Natalie will..." 

"She has an eye for that sort of thing," Evans said, "as you probably well know." 

Chris became a little nervous at the thought, but tried not to show it. "Yeah...that's true." Natalie was really good at working out these sorts of things. She noticed he had a crush on someone before he allowed himself to accept it, and she was the one who worked out that Jeremy and Scarlett were having their first crisis. It would hardly be surprising for her to work out who’s Chris’s affections were directed towards. 

"Speaking of Natalie..." Evans said, "how's the play going?" 

"It's okay," Chris nodded and finished his cup. "We have the costumes ready, and we’re mostly just working on the finer details now." 

"Costumes?" Evans grinned, "sounds fun...tell us when the dress rehearsal is, we don't want to miss it." 

 

* 

Benedict tapped Tom on the shoulder  as he passed him and smiled. "Just wanted to thank you for the editing, I looked at it again yesterday and you improved so much of it." 

"Happy to help," Tom smiled back, folders tucked under his arm for his lecture. "It's really going to be good Ben, seriously good." 

"Hopefully." He nodded. "Though I'm not the first one writing about education in Asia." He looked at his watch and back at Tom with apologetic smile. "In sorry, I have to go now, see you after class." 

"See you," Tom nodded before heading into his own lecture theatre. 

The students were at their seats already by the time he’d arrived, just a few of them hurrying into place belatedly as he walked in. Tom nodded at them in greeting and started to prepare his things on his desk. 

Tom warned them that he was going to set a rather long essay at the end of the session before turning on the computer and standing to start his lecture. 

He met Chris's eyes then, the other smiling at him subtly before casting his gaze to the open page of his book. 

The lecture didn't last too long and then Tom set them off planning their essays but he wanted them to take their time and write them at home; giving them a full two weeks to get it done. 

"Oh good, it's over." Scarlett breathed when Tom finally finished and they started to pack their things. "That was endless!" 

"You normally enjoy the lectures," Chris pointed out. 

"And you normally not so much," she raised her brows at him. 

Chris laughed. "True, we're even." 

"I just...I'm having a bad day," she huffed. "Week even, I might just go home." 

"Something with Jeremy?" 

"Something doesn't quite cover it," she sighed and shrugged her bag onto her shoulder. "Anyway, I'll see you Chris." 

"See you," Chris nodded with a slight frown and then headed out himself. "Goodbye sir." He gave Tom a small smile as he was passed by his desk. 

"See you at rehearsal," Tom nodded with a subtle smile of his own. 

Chris walked out of the lecture theatre and as usual, he headed out with Robert and Evans, to grab some food and pass the time. 

Today, for Chris, time seemed to be passing far slower. 

Natalie came and found him at the end of lunch to walk to rehearsal with him, she nudged him as she sat down beside him. "How's things?" 

"Cool," He grinned. "Literally though, we were freezing when in London..." 

"You went to London with him?" She smiled. 

"Uh-huh, for half a day." Chris nodded and looked down, smiling subtly. "It was great." 

"Really?" She beamed, "that's fantastic Chris, I'm happy for you." 

"Thanks." He hummed. "Anyway...would you mind staying with Robert now? I gotta go." 

"No problem." She waved her hand. "I can handle him." 

Chris nodded in thanks and headed off. He had a good thirty minutes before the start of their rehearsal, and he went to the aula right away; after all he wanted to make the most of it. 

Tom was dragging pieces of set around when Chris entered, so preoccupied he didn't notice the sound of the doors opening and closing. 

Chris opened his mouth to say something, but then thought better of it and silently put his bag down on one of the seats before walking over to him as quietly as he could. Then, in one quick movement, he wrapped his arms around Tom's middle. "Hey." 

Tom let out a small sound of surprise but quickly relaxed into his touch, he turned his head to half face Chris and smiled, "good evening." 

"How you doing?" Chris smiled, loosening the embrace a little 

"I'm having a disagreement with Juliet's balcony," Tom sighed. "You?" 

"I'm okay with houses." Chris chuckled. "Can I help?" 

"I need it on top of those," he nodded to two boxes. "And then I have to line up a pair of stairs well enough to pass the health and safety standards." 

"Okay." Chris raised his brows. He went to the boxes and arranged them as Tom motioned. "And you thought you could to that on your own?" 

"I thought I could try..." Tom said sheepishly, going to take one end of the balcony piece. 

They lifted it on three, managing to set it right on the first try and went to struggle with the stairs. 

"There...we...go," they dropped the stairs into place and Tom walked up them to check, "this will do." 

"It's a pity guy can't play that part anymore." Chris smiled when he watched him descending the stairs. "You'd look great." 

"Hm, yes, in a dress and everything," Tom smirked. 

"Would make me even better Romeo." Chris grinned. 

"Ah but then it wouldn't be acting," Tom reminded him. 

"It would." Chris disagreed. "I'd just have an advantage, that's all." He ran his hand through his hair a little nervously and walked over to him. "I might've said it already, but thanks for the trip, I had a great time." 

"Well so did I, so really no need to thank me," Tom smiled and graced the back of Chris's hand with his fingertips. 

The boy smiled in return at the touch. He glanced to the entrance, finding it still closed he leant forward to kiss Tom's lips softly. 

Tom followed his gaze for a moment but then responded, his hand cupping the back of Chris's neck as he guided them behind Juliet's balcony. 

Chris let him guide the way, holding onto Tom's hips lightly to keep him close. When Tom stopped, he did the same, wrapping his arms around him and deepening the kiss. His lips parted against Chris’s, and feeling brave Chris responded; slipping his tongue into his mouth to explore. Tom made a sound of approval, his other hand winding into Chris's hair to pull him even closer.   
A quiet moan escaped Chris's own mouth at that, but he couldn't help it. Tom was overwhelmingly attractive to him right now, the fact that is was...forbidden and that there was a risk of them getting caught simply heightened how Chris felt. He let out a soft huff and moved his fingers to the edge of Tom's shirt aright above his waistband and tried to pull it out of his trousers. 

"Chris-" Tom broke away and pulled back, barely an inch. "Don't-" his eyes shone with his own confliction, he clearly wanted this but he couldn't...it wasn't worth the risk. 

"I know," Chris nodded, and decently placed his hands on Tom's hips. "sorry, I know we can't-" 

"Just, not here," Tom sighed. "It's not that I don't want..." 

Chris shook his head. "No, I- I'm takin' it too fast." 

"It's okay," Tom nudged Chris's nose with his own. "I get it, you're still a teenager." 

"Hey!" Chris chuckled. "But yeah, let's blame it on that." 

"Seems fair," Tom smirked softly. 

"When can I see you again?" Chris asked quietly. 

"Some afternoon's I'm free," Tom said, "and every evening." 

"Great, awesome." He smiled. "Though I'll have to study, the tests are coming." 

"Ah, of course," Tom nodded, "but we'll find time." 

"We have to." Chris agreed and kissed his jaw. "There are so many places in London I don't know yet." 

"I look forward to showing you them," Tom breathed and tilted his head to kiss him again. 

The sound of the door creaking open echoed in the aula and Chris quickly pulled away. "Shirt." he mumbled, running hand through his hair to get it in place. 

Tom quickly pushed a loose lock behind his ear and neatened out his shirt, and then ran a hand through his own hair. 

He stepped out. 

"Hello professor Hiddleston." It was Natalie. 

Chris used that brief moment to disappear behind the curtain in the back, resting his hands against some wooden table there to calm his breathing down a little and collected himself somewhat. He could hear Tom chatting with Natalie, and thought about what Jeremy'd told him; it would be better for them not to get so carried away here. This wasn't about him though but more so Tom, Chris didn’t want him to get into trouble because of him. 

He walked through backstage, coming out on the opposite side. "Natalie, hi," Chris tried his best to make his smile look natural. 

"Chris! Didn't see you there," she smiled, "Evans has done a fantastic job on the balcony." 

"He did, yeah." Chris walked over to them, not looking at Tom once. "We better treat it with respect." 

Natalie chuckled, glancing between the two. "Yeah...we'll be careful." 

"Are we wearing our costumes today?" Chris asked, sounding casual so he didn’t have to look at Tom directly. 

Tom shook his head, "we won't bother today, we'll be focusing more on scenery and props." 

"Will we get to our death scene?" Natalie asked. "It would be great to try those emotions." 

"We can do," Tom smiled. "If you feel up to it." 

"Amazing!" Natalie beamed, but Chris didn't appear too endeared at the thought. The death scene was the climax of the whole play, if he ruins it the audience won't even care whether the rest of his performance was been good or not. They'll just remember his tragically bad acting in that one scene.

"It will take a lot of practise," Tom warned, "but I know you two can both do it." 

"Then we should've started right away." Chris smirked. 

"Yes, well, we didn't want to put you off," Tom grinned. 

Natalie nudged him, "we can do it." 

Chris resisted the urge to grimace at Tom, and smiled at Natalie instead. "I know we can." 

"Why don't we practise now?" She suggested, "before everyone else arrives?" 

"But that will be any minute," Chris pointed out and then sighed. "Fine, I'll just go get my script." 

Natalie squealed in excitement and Tom began to move a few blocks together to create a pretend coffin for her to lie upon. 

Chris grabbed his script and then crouched beside her. He looked down at the words and started reading them after a quick swallow. 

Natalie lay down, pretending to look very much dead; having to battle off the smirk off of her lips as she lay there, trying to be still as possible. 

Chris raised his brows when he saw how long his monologue was: 

"How oft when men are at the point of death   
Have they been Merry, which their keepers call   
A lightning before death! Oh, how-" 

He stopped and looked up at Tom with a grin. "I can't! She's giggling, I can hear it, it’s distracting!!" 

"Sorry, sorry!" Natalie hid her smile with her hands, "It's just...all so farcical." 

"You asked for this," Chris reminded her. "So shush," he started again, even though he himself couldn't keep a straight face anymore. 

Natalie managed to keep a somewhat straight face when Chris died next to her, and then she woke she fully and truly went into her acting mode; though she didn't go all out. There were no real tears, not this time round. 

When she fell to the ground next to Chris, an applause started. 

"Amazing," Benedict breathed from the door and walked in followed by the rest of the cast. "Just a little of practice and you’ve got it. You're joy to work with." 

Natalie beamed, "really? You missed the giggling bit though didn't you?" 

"Your recovery shows control," Tom assured her. 

"Exactly," Ben nodded while Chris was picking himself up. "We can try it again, if you're not too drained. Right next up I want Paris on stage, we'll take it from the last conversation with Romeo." 

Natalie hopped off so Chris could do his scene, the other students now gather in the seats below as they always did to watch. 

The boys performed their scene well, acting out the sword fight as well much to Ben's delight. Tom praised them for a job well done, Chris smiled at him; just as the boy playing Paris did as well, of course. A brief knowing look passed between Chris and Tom, it excited him; the secretive nature of it all. It would be utterly dishonest of him to deny it. It wasn’t just the thrill of it all though, Chris felt something for Tom regardless of it all; something currently indescribable. 

Tom set some of the others onto a scene with just Juliet and a few other actors, giving Chris a well deserved break. 

Chris went to take a sip from his bottle of water that he'd left in his bag on the seat in the back then sat down on a chair, resting his feet on the seat before him with a soft satisfied sigh. 

Ben and Tom were arranging everyone on stage and everything else with them; Natalie didn’t catch all of their conversation but Benedict was talking about...what was it, his book? She couldn’t help but overhear fragments and her curiosity got the better of her. 

"Just don't be in London next time I need your help," he chuckled lightly and Tom smiled warmly. 

Natalie frowned in thought. 

"I can handle this, go look at the script, just don't change it too much...again," Benedict patted Tom's shoulder, sending him off the stage so he could focus on Natalie’s stage directions. 

Tom didn't particularly want to sit at the front with a gossiping cast so he moved a few rows back to where he usually sat, finding Chris there; he sat down next to him but made sure not to look too damn pleased at it. 

"Shouldn't you be doing something up there?" The blonde smiled slightly, glancing sideways at him. 

"I am doing something," he gestured to the script in his lap. "Clearly." 

"Oh right," He answered lamely and nodded slowly, looking down at his hands in his lap, 

They fell quiet as the scene began and throughout it Tom made notes, leaning back against his chair once he was satisfied, their elbows touching ever so slightly. Chris noticed the subtle touch and relaxed into his seat, moving his knee slightly to brush it against Tom's.Tom smiled gently and didn't move his leg, letting it remain against Chris's. Casually, he dropped his hand down. Soon after he felt Chris's fingers brush against his and Tom let out a soft sigh. Tom then responded by lightly brushing his own fingers against Chris's. 

"Tomorrow?" Chris whispered. 

"Afternoon?" Tom murmured. 

Chris nodded subtly, drawing patterns on Tom's palm with the pads of his fingertips. "I end at five." 

Tom lightly traced his knuckles with his thumb, "could meet at half past?" 

"Sure" He nodded. "Where?" 

Tom's gaze darted to the stage, "I don't know, somewhere outside? Woods maybe?" 

Chris chuckled quietly. "Okay. I'll bring a warm jacket. I’ll wait at the bus   
stop there." 

"Sure," Tom whispered with a small yet smile. "I'll see you then." 

A little while later as the end of the session was creeping up on them Ben called Chris back on stage, the boy squeezing Tom's hand in goodbye before he stood up and headed over. It was a simple scene and the actors performed it well, perfectly almost though Ben still had a few tweaks and alterations to add. He made them perform it again and seemed very pleased with the results, Tom shooting Ben a thumbs up from the back too. 

Once finished Ben wished them all a good evening, and they all headed out with murmured goodbyes and sleepy smiles. Chris purposefully took his time as he packed his things, even though he had only a small bag with him, and smiled lightly at Tom in goodbye before reluctantly leaving too. He stole another look over his shoulder at his professor when he was sure no one was looking before the doors closed behind. He wasn’t quite sure what look Tom gave him as headed out, all he knew was that it made a warm feeling blossom in his chest. It made Chris smile a little giddily as he walked out onto the street. 

"You’re awfully smiley Chris," Natalie nudged him as he came up beside her. Seeing him blush she gave him a fond look, “see you tomorrow.” 

“Yeah,” Chris smiled even brighter at the thought. “Tomorrow,” he hummed before they parted ways and each headed home.


	13. Let it snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A walk in the woods.

Tom slept wonderfully that night, and feeling well rested the next day he had spring in his step. He performed his lectures with enthusiasm, his whole day in general a great one. It was a pleasant change, one he was sure Chris was responsible for. He arrived at the bus stop Chris had texted him bundled up in his leather jacket, the grey scarf he wore bunched up around his neck and tickling his cheeks. Snow gently tumbled down from the sky, thickening the already whitened pavement below, a few stray flakes getting caught in Tom’s curls. 

Chris was waiting for him, sat on the bench under the bus shelter with his hands buried in the pockets of his winter jacket, the lining that peeked out between the dark material cream and woolen. When he caught sight of Tom he smiled subtly and stood; his eyes undeniably lighting up too.

Tom nodded to him, a warm smile on his own lips. 

"Hi," Chris walked up to him, smiling still. "So are we really going walking in the forest? You weren't kidding?"

Tom blinked, hesitating with his answer for a moment, then shrugged. "Well I thought it might be nice," He said almost sheepishly, "in the snow and all..."

"Yeah!" Chris nodded quickly, not wanting the other to feel embarrassed. "Sounds great, really. And-- romantic."

_Also private _but Tom didn't want to add that, he didn't like this having to hide; he didn't want Chris to think he did. But right now, whilst he was a teacher and Chris was his student, it was inconveniently necessary. "Shall we?"__

__They descended from the concreted pavement to a gravel road path that lead into the forest. They walked mostly in silence for a little while, both of them waiting for the trees and gloom of the woods to cover them. Everything felt almost tense until they were well hidden, it was as if they needed the reassurance of privacy before they could fully relax. The snow was falling lazily, barely reaching them through the forest canopy; a few stray flakes just sneaking through. As they walked the frosty ground crunched under their feet, the frozen leaves breaking apart._ _

__Once they were very much alone and hidden away completely, Tom's fingers graced the back of Chris's hand. Chris took it as a welcoming gesture, making step closer to him as to increase their proximity. “Does it always snow like this, this time of year?" He asked quietly, as if he could destroy the magic of the moment that lingered around them with mere words._ _

__"Most years, but not always, we've been lucky," Tom smiled softly, entwining a few of fingers loosely._ _

__They walked like that for a while, fingers just linked together; more snow reaching them as it began to fall more heavily._ _

__"It's a shame no one else is here to appreciate this," Chris pointed out. "Or...maybe it's not."_ _

__"Not for us, just a shame for them," Tom agreed, squeezing Chris's fingers._ _

__"That’s it, yeah," Chris nodded and looked up at the milk white sky that poked through the leaves, grinning when a snowflake landed on his nose._ _

__Tom smiled at the sight, and gingerly pulled Chris closer. The other put one arm around Tom's waist, glancing sideways at him to see him relax into his touch. "Aren't you cold in that jacket?" Chris asked, his fingers clutching at the chilly, leathery fabric wrapped around Tom._ _

__"It's surprisingly warm," Tom assured him, "and I wear a lot of layers."_ _

__"Okay," Chris chuckled. "First winter in the UK, you have to forgive me."_ _

__"You'll soon adapt," Tom smirked softly, leaning forward to kiss the corner of Chris's mouth._ _

__Chris paused so he could tilt his head and return the kiss properly. "I’m warming up, funnily enough," he murmured and brushed a snow flake off of Tom’s cheek bone._ _

__"Perhaps not enough," Tom smiled tenderly and kissed him again, a hand running through the boy’s damp hair. Chris chuckled, bringing his hand up to cup the back of Tom's neck. They kissed languidly, lingering in the middle of the path for a few minutes as they did nothing but kiss, slow and loving, as if there was no snow, no cold creeping on on them. They had to pull away eventually, when the wind started to blow their hair over their mouths, and both of them giggled._ _

__Tom glanced up, the snow now streaming down, the forest canopy unable to inhibit the fat white blobs from floating down. "I think it might be beginning to blizzard," he bit his lip._ _

__"Ah," Chris sighed, annoyed. "The weather’s clearly against us."_ _

__"If we stay out, we may freeze," Tom mused, "We should go somewhere with shelter."_ _

__"A café somewhere?" Chris’s brows furrowed a little in thought._ _

__"Someone might..." Tom sighed. He glanced at Chris, seeing the other look down with sad smile at the words. They couldn't go anywhere with people, all the places were probably crowded in this weather. "We could always go back to mine, if you like?" Tom offered gingerly._ _

__Chris swallowed, "I don't- it's a lovely idea, really, just not sure..."_ _

__"Don't feel you have to," Tom said gently. "We can meet again when it's less snowy."_ _

__"No, I'd love to." Chris shook his head, looking at him with slightly glazed over eyes. "If you're okay with it."_ _

__"I am," Tom assured him, squeezing his arm. "Else I wouldn't have offered."_ _

__*_ _

__"Thanks," Chris smiled as he took the cup of steaming green tea from Tom's hands, their fingertips brushing purposefully. He was sat in his Professor’s living room. It seemed like a modest place, the room itself simple yet stylish. There were white walls, a wooden floor and a pale blue couch littered with cushions that had patterns that clashed fantastically. One wall was a solid bookcase, and even then the shelves appeared to be bursting. Chris glanced towards the balcony but all he could see was the white sky bright against the black railing, with the snow piled up high against the window. "This is a really nice place," Chris said politely, still looking around intently._ _

__"Thank you," Tom grinned almost proudly. "It suits me well, I find," he fetched his own cup, then went to sit beside Chris, leaning against him unintentionally, but neither one seemed to mind._ _

__The warm presence of Tom beside him was pleasantly grounding and Chris shuffled a little closer to him. "You weren't lying about the view either."_ _

__"It is wonderful, I'm very lucky," Tom hummed. "Just a shame you can't really get out onto the balcony at the moment._ _

__"Must be heaven on earth in summer though." Chris said, blowing on his cup to cool it down a bit._ _

__"Oh, it is," Tom's eyes almost lit up at the thought. "It's wonderful.”_ _

__Chris smiled at that, setting his cup aside on the mahogany table. He took a deeper breath and rubbed his palms against his knees a little awkwardly, feeling nervous all of sudden, at sitting in Tom's apartement with him, drinking tea when there was literally nowhere to go in the cold weather. And oh, how he wanted to get warm with Tom. Sensing his discomfort, Tom took one of those hands into his own, giving it a light squeeze._ _

__"I'm okay," Chris said softly, yet grateful for the gesture._ _

__Still, Tom didn't pull his hand away._ _

__Chris met his gaze, kind and understanding, and gently brought up his free hand to lift Tom’s head up a bit before slanting their mouths together. Tom kissed him back gingerly, placing his own cup down with practised ease before bringing his own free hand up to curl lightly around the other’s neck and draw them even closer. Their position on the couch quickly became uncomfortable, so Chris turned, now sitting almost backwards, before he dared to hitch a leg over and sit astride Tom._ _

__Tom smiled against Chris's mouth, one hand gingerly placed on his thigh in reassurance almost. With his clear approval Chris relaxed a little and his hands came up to rest against Tom’s chest. He found himself getting a little nervous, Chris hadn't been physically this close to Tom yet; it wasn’t the contact itself, though, that was bothering him, it was more how new it was; how _unknown.__ _

__"It's okay," Tom assured him with a breathless smile when they had to part for air. And reached up to cup Chris's cheek. "It's all okay."_ _

__"Yeah," Chris swallowed, resting his hands now loosely on Tom's shoulders._ _

__"And you're okay?" Tom checked quietly._ _

__"I'm just..." The blonde bit his lip. "Nervous, I guess, I..."_ _

__"Don't be," Tom kissed his jaw. "Though I suppose at the moment, it's really quite normal."_ _

__Chris nodded and breathed out quiet sigh. "Right, fine." he seemed to relax completely and let out a weak chuckle, resting his forehead against Tom's for a moment._ _

__Tom felt like he could get lost in Chris's eyes, all that _blue_ . "Hey," He murmured, stroking Chris's thigh, waiting for the other to look at him again. "No pressure, alright?."_ _

__Chris sealed his words with a soft kiss, his hands moving down to Tom's chest once again._ _

__Tom's hands came up around Chris’s neck, his grip soft, to bring them gently closer. He could feel how Chris's pulse sped up under his fingertips, before the other broke out of his hold, tilting his head up to Tom's jaw and kissing down his neck. Tom hummed in appreciation, tiliting his head back. His hands fell to Chris's thighs, and he closed his eyes, just enjoying the feeling of Chris's warm lips on his skin, feeling it descend down over his neck to his collarbone, where he stopped, his lips lingering against his skin before Chris returned his attention to Tom's lips. He kissed Tom deeply and slowly, whilst beginning to unbutton Tom's shirt._ _

__Chris pulled away a little to meet Tom’s gaze, his breathing a little heavy as he undid the rest of his shirt buttons before sliding a hand underneath. His fingers cool against Tom’s warm skin, creating goosebumps in their path._ _

__Tom's breath hitched and he glanced down, his expression almost awestruck as if he couldn’t believe what was truly happening. Chris cast his own eyes downwards in turn, drinking in the sight of Tom’s slender chest, muscles lightly defined due to all that running. His hands were almost shaky as he graced the contours of Tom’s chest with his fingertips. Tom seemed to quickly realise he was holding his breath and exhaled, smiling a little nervously._ _

__Chris let out a shuddered breath and met the other’s gaze with a small smile of his own before he bent down to kiss along his collar bone, and then lower as he hands curled onto Tom’s hips._ _

__Tom had to bite back a whimper. "Chris," he stuttered as the almost feathery touches became more insistent. Chris felt a wave of heat sweep over him when Tom said his name, and he let out a quiet growl in return, running his tongue over one of his nipples._ _

__"Shit," Tom breathed out, arching into his touch head falling back._ _

__Chris chuckled lowly at the sound soft and he smiled triumphantly. He kissed the same spot again, swirling with his tongue before nibbling gently, earning himself another moan from the other, before he pulled away and leveled with Tom again._ _

__Tom smirked lightly and then slanted his own mouth against Chris's, he then rested his elbows on Tom's shoulders, smoothing down the soft curls of his hair as he kissed him back and sat fully down in his lap, making Chris's breath hitch at the feel of Tom's groin against his own._ _

__

__Soon Tom began to lightly trace Chris's spine with delicate fingers, pushing at his shirt lightly. Chris broke the kiss to fulfil Tom's silent plea, taking his shirt off on in a flurried motion and tossing it to the floor carelessly._ _

__Tom sucked in a breath at the sight, mapping out the contours of Chris's chest gingerly with his fingertips. He couldn't get enough of touching Chris this way; the boy alaways seemed to have big muscles under the clothes Tom's been seeing him in, but now Tom finally got to see the broad shoulders and narrow waist, the sharp line of hip bones and abs._ _

__Chris's breathing picked up as he watched Tom's slender fingers moving over his body. Tom caught his gaze, then leaned forward to trace Chris's collar bone with his mouth. Chris tilted his head back with a soft sigh, letting his eyes fall shut for a moment. He allowed himself to give way completely, aware of nothing else but him and Tom. Any inhibitions faded as this felt inarguably _right_ to Chris. He knew now that whatever it is they had was utterly worth all it’s risks. Tom bit down softly, interrupting his thoughts, making sure to leave a mark below his collar line._ _

__Chris hissed lightly at that, though the sensation was burningly pleasant. He arched lightly "God, yes--" he breathed and rolled his hips, feeling Tom's half hard cock over the fabric of their jeans, then stopped, suddenly aware of where this was going._ _

__"Chris," Tom breathed out against his chest, then licked over the mark, looking up at him._ _

__"Tom, I.." Chris breathed, drawing on all his willpower to pull away and sit beside him._ _

__"We don't have to..." Tom swallowed, "go, any further." They both sat there for few minutes, just breathing; a new electric sort of tension lingering in the air, making Tom wish he could just turn and trap Chris under him. Chris ran a hand through his hair. “I know,” he whispered, casting his eyes downwards. “I’m sorry.”_ _

__"It's okay, probably shouldn't--" Tom smiled weakly in assurance. "There's no rush."_ _

__Chris felt his heart sink a little. He nodded and smiled faintly. "I'll need a cold shower," He murmured and met Tom's eyes with nervous chuckle. " _Very_ cold."_ _

__"Well, you could just go outside," Tom laughed softly, glancing out at the tumbling snow._ _

__"Shit..." Chris rubbed his eyes. "What's the time even?"_ _

__Tom glanced at a clock on the wall, "It's eight, or just about."_ _

__"Should probably text home," Chris sighed, not really wanting to get up and search for his phone at the moment, but did so anyway, when Tom lightly squeezed his hand in assurance. He picked up his shirt and pulled it on as he went to rummage through his duffel bag. "Mom called half an hour ago..." Chris muttered, looking at his phone screen with slightly furrowed brows. "I ought to head home."_ _

__Tom was sipping at his tea, just looking up at Chris's word. "Oh.." he breathed before he could even try to hide his disappointement. He set the cup down and nodded. "Okay, of course." Tom nodded and set the cup down. "Do you have enough layers? You won't get cold will you?"_ _

__"No," Chris shook his head with a small smile at Tom’s concern. "No I think I'm good, thanks."_ _

__"You're sure? Alright," Tom stood up, pushing his messed up hair from his forehead. "I suppose I'll see you Thursday then."_ _

__Chris nodded, shrugging his coat on and grabbing his bag. "Yeah, sure thing," he leaned forward and kissed Tom again, pulling away with apologetic smile on his lips. "I'm sorry about ll this," he murmured, trying to hold Tom's gaze, but it was just too hard with Tom standing half naked in front of him. Then Tom cupped his cheek, and Chris met his eyes, his own wide and hesitant._ _

__

__"Never apologize for that." Tom shook his head and stole another chaste kiss before going to open the door for him._ _

__

__Chris quickly zipped up his jacket and stepped into his shoes, trying to hide the rosy blush on his cheeks. Once in the corridor, he turned back to Tom with one last smile, then ran down the stairs._ _

__

__*_ _

__"Could you at least tell me that you won't be home in future?" His mother's tone was deadly serious, and Chris paused in the doorway before he actually dared to close the door behind him. She was standing in front of him in a second, watching like a hawk as he started to take his shoes and coat off._ _

__

__"Sorry, I was out, forgot to let you know."_ _

__

__"Can I ask where you were?" She said flatly. "Can I?"_ _

__

__"Out," Chris said cautiously, taking off his jacket. "With friends.."_ _

__

__"Friends? Okay," she huffed. "You clearly don't want to tell me."_ _

__

__"I told you," He sighed. Oh how he hated these interrogations. "With friends. I don't have to be home for the news, I'm not a child anymore."_ _

__

__"No, I know," she sighed and looked at him. "I'm not blind you know, I can tell."_ _

__

__Chris looked at her with confused frown, thinking better to drop it. "I'll be in my room." He murmured only._ _

__

__"Good night Chris," he heard her say before he headed up the stairs._ _

__

__He closed the door of his room with relieved sigh, tossing the bag under his table and began to take off his clothes that were damp from the snow. Chris caught a glance at himself in the mirror and came closer, fingers brushing lightly over the small red bruise under his collarbone where Tom had _marked_ him. He smiled lightly at that, and went to get ready for bed. The smile not leaving his lips until he drifted off to sleep._ _


	14. Reveal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There might be a delay (or rather a longer delay because let's be honest I'm as slow as hell as updating) because I'm going away for a week to actually spend time with the person I'm writing this with. Hopefully afterwards I'll get a bit faster at updating. Hope if anyone's reading that they enjoy :) x

The next Thursday the snow fell down thickly and with speed; the ground quickly becoming well padded with the stuff. So that morning Tom had to take the bus, though now of course he didn’t mind so much.

"I don't see how it can still be snowing," came a murmur from behind him, the Australian accent ever prominent and Tom felt Chris lean closer to him. "This is madness I swear, it’s almost February."

Tom smiled, resisting the urge to turn round fully. "I warned you, it snows till March some years."

Chris huffed slightly. "I am going to freeze here."

"It'll be spring soon enough," Tom chuckled softly. "You'll see."

"When it’s Spring we can visit London again then." Chris murmured and grinned, getting a rather outraged look from the old lady sitting next to him.

Tom found himself smiling warmly, "Sounds like a wonderful idea."

The bus stopped at the university and Chris asked the lady politely to let him pass, quickly leaning towards Tom to whisper in his ear before she stood up. "Gotta go, I promised to meet up with the guys. See you later."

Tom followed on getting off the bus after him, heading to his lecture theatre early; the brightest of smiles curved onto his lips. 

"There he is," Robert beamed when Chris arrived, taking a seat at the bench beside him. "Chris dear, if you keep rejecting our invitations for days and nights out, I might have to stop talking to you."

"Sorry mate." Chris chuckled. "Had slightly better things to do."

"Or people?" Evans smirked, laughing at Chris's expression. "Sorry, sorry. I'm only joking."

Chris fought back a blush and shook his head with a small chuckle. "Yeah, not quite... Have you see Natalie around? Thought she'd be here."

"Speaking of the devil..." Robert hummed with small smile, nodding to Chris's side, and they all turned to see Natalie approach.

"Hello," she sang, "how are we all?"

"Oh hi," Chris smiled at her. "Hey Nat, I was wondering, could I borrow your script for the rehearsal, so long as you don't need it? I just know you’ve learnt most of your lines already and I forgot mine." He said. It was half a true; he really did forget it, only at Tom's place the last time he has been there and had to leave so suddenly. 

"Sure," Natalie nodded, "though I will need it for this one scene..."

"Of course," Chris waved his hand. "Just don't want to be borrowing one from Cumberbatch or Hiddleston." He bit back a grimace, it felt so odd addressing Tom by his second name now, but anything else would raise far too many eyebrows. 

She laughed, "yeah, you can't read them for their notes. Anyway...I've got to go, see you at rehearsal Chris."

"Should get going as well," Chris hummed and ran a hand through his hair. "I have lecture in a moment." 

"You seem almost happy about that," Robert smirked and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, mate," Chris chuckled and headed off.

Chris arrived at the lecture just in time, finding Tom already in there, as always. He smiled warmly at him, even blushed lightly, and went to take his seat. He shook himself a little as he sat down, by god he needed to get less obvious; he didn’t even want to imagine how terrible he’d feel if he put Tom’s job in jeopardy. Sometimes he admittedly forgot how much his professor was risking for this, for _them._

"Hey," Scarlett greeted him as she took her own seat. "You...alright?"

"Sure," Chris assured her smiling brightly, though Scarlett still gave him an odd look; apparently unconvinced. 

The lecture was a long one and at the end Hiddleston set them practise questions to be completed for next lesson, as the exams were only about three months away now. He also mentioned the coursework but promised to explain it better next lecture.

He assured them that they would do well in their exams, that he had faith in all of them.

Chris wrote down the dates and sighed; it seemed like a lot of work to do.

"Are you going out with us tomorrow night? Or are you too busy doing something again?" Scarlett asked as they packed their things away, her tone a little mocking. 

Chris smirked. "I think I'm free tomorrow...”

She rolled her eyes fondly, "come out, you'll enjoy it now it's finally stopped snowing."

"Okay, okay," Chris chuckled and shrugged his rucksack over his shoulder. "I promise I’ll come, but now I gotta go. Told one I’d guy go through some scene with him before the rehearsal."

"Alright, see you Chris," Scarlett squeezed his shoulder before he headed off.

He smiled a little weakly at her as he walked away, an ugly feeling settling in the pit of his gut; he didn’t like lying to his friends. Truthfully he just wanted to try and catch Tom before rehearsal but then he could hardly tell Scarlett that; though was it better to give her a false explanation? Perhaps he just shouldn’t offer one in situations such as this, then that could lead to his friends getting suspicious...Chris sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Sometimes doubt did cloud his mind admittedly, whether this thing Tom and him had was entirely worth all the trouble. But then he’d see him, and his effortlessly bright smile and Chris knew. It was equivocally worth it.

* 

"You have become very, very smiley recently," Benedict said with a soft smirk, sitting at his desk in their office as he typed away at his laptop with inhuman speeds. "I haven't heard you hum _Friday I'm in love_ for months, and now all of sudden it’s like you’re stuck on repeat."

"Things have just been going well recently," Tom shrugged. "Tis all." 

"Oh are they?" The dark haired man smiled at him knowingly and raised a brow. "Well I'm glad to hear that."

"Are we still on for booking editing tomorrow?" Tom asked as he stood, beginning to pack his bag.

"If you're free, that would be lovely," Benedict nodded.

"Sure," Tom smiled. "I'll come around three, I'm just going to go to the theatre early to set up some things. See you there."

"Laters." Ben waved him off absentmindedly, beginning to go through some papers from his lectures.

*

Tom arrived at the theatre early, quickly going about setting up the set; grateful for the physical activity as it gave him something to focus on. His mind was wondering more and more these days, and whilst he didn’t find it displeasing (rather the opposite) it did rather inhibit his productiveness.

Chris bit back a sigh as he walked to the theatre. Kyle, another boy who was in the play, it turned out was also early; and he talked _so much._ Chris thought it a wonder the boy inhaled another oxygen to survive let alone pummel out his strings of nonsensical sentences which appeared to be never ending. One minute he’d been talking about them practising their fencing scene and now he was onto climate change...

Tom turned when the doors opened to see a rather withered Chris and an over enthusiastic Kyle enter; Chris half dragging himself in. 

Kyle was still talking about something once they’d gotten inside but Chris wasn't even listening anymore, he just hummed and patted his back. "Listen mate, I just need to talk something over with Hiddleston, okay?" He left him among the seats at the back, rolling his eyes at Tom once he had his back to Kyle. "This might be mean, but he's one annoying moozie,” he muttered.

Tom raised a brow, "...moozie?"

"Yeah," Chris nodded casually. "Y'know, the flying, blood sucking insect."

"Oh, right...sorry, sometimes I don’t catch up with all of the Australian slang," Tom shook his head, "what is Kyle here for...?"

"I don't know," Chris rubbed the back of his neck. "He just appeared. I think he wants to go through our fencing scene."

"Oh...I see, well we can do that," Tom smiled weakly and went to fetch the wooden swords.

Practising with Kyle was an interesting process, though Chris was the one who was supposed to kill him at the end of the fight, he was pretty certain he’d left with almost half a dozen bruises. Though the wooden swords weren’t sharp they still rather hurt when they were jabbed into your side it turned out, though that shouldn’t have really happened; not when all of their moves were _scripted._

The other students started to arrive about five minutes later, much to Chris’s relief him and Kyle finished up, Tom giving him a sympathetic look as he went to take his seat with the others.

It was clear once they started rehearsing everyone had turned a corner; scripts were barely needed, and everyone was getting into character. Every scene performed simply felt richer, every line said with real meaning. Benedict’s enthusiasm doubled tenfold due to this, “Amazing guys! Truly!” He exclaimed after Natalie and Chris performed the death scene again, fortunately without any corpsing this time.

"The dress rehearsal is in three weeks," Tom informed them as they finished up, "So please, do invite your friends."

"Or don't," Chris murmured, making Natalie chuckle. After that Benedict and Tom wished them all goodnight and a safe journey home. Though it had stopped snowing the ground was still crusted over with ice making it slippy.

"I have somewhere I need to be, sorry," Ben apologised to Tom before he hurried off, clearly in some sort of rush.

"Bye," Tom nodded in return with a small smile and went about the stage, starting to move the set back so it would be out of the way until next time. A few of the other students stayed behind to help, including Chris naturally.

"Right, I'm heading off," Natalie gave him a small wave. "See yeah."

"Bye!" Chris called from the stage, holding onto the stairs so as someone else unattached them from the balcony.

Soon enough they were finished up and the other boys started to leave, Tom thanking them. 

Chris was sitting on a wooden box, dangling his legs lazily when Tom turned back around. "That was smooth," he grinned.

"Wasn't it just?" Tom chuckled lightly. He glanced down, and pushed back his curls from his forehead, then walked over to Chris with slightly concerned expression. "You okay?" He lifted his hand to gently stroke Chris's thigh.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Chris asked, smiling lightly at the touch.

"Just thought I'd ask," Tom smiled then lent forward to kiss him. Chris returned the kiss immediately, keeping his hands rested on the wood beside him with a great deal of willpower. 

Tom eventually pulled away, but not far, their noses nudging together and they both giggled, making Tom truly feel like two giddy school boys, hiding their kisses from anyone to see, and tiptoeing around each other after everything, still.

*

Natalie had forgotten her script, not remembering to take it back from Chris before leaving. It was annoyingly typical of her. With a huff she trudged back through the cold winter air to the theatre. At first when she entered she thought it empty but then surely it would have been locked up...shrugging she walked on through, finding her script perched on one of the seats at the back; the ones her and Chris usually frequented. There was shuffling from the stage area and Natalie glanced her, her eyes widening. Her breath hitched as she stared on, not quite believing what she was seeing before her. Eventually Natalie managed to will herself to move and woodenly headed out.

When the theatre doors closed behind she let out a long breath.

*

Chris bit his lip, opening his eyes eventually and smiled at Tom as he pulled back a little. "I’ll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay," Tom breathed, reluctantly pulling away too.

"Oh come on," Chris laughed softly. "I’ve gotta be social for a bit. And also I really should start revising for all the exams."

"Gods yes," Tom nodded, "Though you’ll do just fine, I'm sure."

"Aw, shut up," Chris poked his side. "No favouritism."

"I would never." Tom smiled, "You know that."

"Yeah I do." Chris nodded, gripping the lapels of Tom's waistcoat softly to bring him closer again. "Shouldn't be joking 'bout that, sorry."

"I know you're just joking," Tom assured him, kissing him again soundly, one of his hands running through Chris’s hair. When he pulled away, Chris was looking at him with wide eyes, lips slightly parted, and Tom had to chuckle when the boy breathed a silent 'Wow'.

"Okay, um, how about revising together?" The blonde suggested. "You could give me even some tips."

"Alright," Tom nodded, "if you like, when works for you?"

"You know when I have lectures." Chris grinned. "So anytime besides that and rehearsals."

"Would tomorrow evening work for you?" Tom said.

Chris looked down as he mentally sorted through his commitments, then hummed. "It would." He broke away from Tom and and hopped down from the box. "Where?"

"Mine?" Tom suggested. "Would that be okay?"

"Sure, of course" Chris nodded. He jumped down off the stage and shrugged on his jacket, taking his bag. "Tomorrow evening...I think I remember the way to yours."

"Pass me your phone, I'll give you my number just in case," Tom said, slipping down to sit on the edge of the stage.

The blonde smiled and reached into his pocket, handing him his phone. "Thanks," he watched as Tom tapped his number in, chewing on his lip. He hasn't even realized he didn't have Tom's number till now, and the fact filled him with excitement.

Tom slipped it back into his palm, his fingers lingering on Chris's wrist for a moment. 

"Tomorrow," Chris repeated in a quiet promise before he tucked away his phone and headed away.

“Tomorrow,” Tom affirmed, with a small smile.

*

That night Natalie texted Chris. _Hey, you okay?_

_Sure thing_. Chris texted back. He frowned a little, confused at his friend’s concern.

_I saw you at rehearsal today Chris. It was...unexpected._

His chest constricted as he read her text, panic rising within him immediately. Natalie- no, she couldn't have. She couldn't have seen them surely, they were careful; at least Chris thought they were...apparently not. He _made sure_ they were alone, he was sure he’d checked properly. Perhaps Natalie was texting about something else-no. Chris couldn’t kid himself like that. She _knew_ about him and Tom.

  

It took Chris several minutes to just send a reply.

_Please don't tell anyone. Please._


End file.
